Northwest Indiana Historian James B Lane

One Fine Day

2012-01-27T11:49:00.001-06:00

“This broken wing will fly again
This blackbird’s mute gonna sing again
One fine day.”
Cracker

John Shearer and I have similar musical tastes, so I always look forward to when he posts songs on Facebook. A recent one is Warren Zevon singing the Prince song “Raspberry Beret” on a 1990 Letterman show backed by members of REM calling themselves the Hindu Love Gods. John is also a big fan of Wilco and posted an animated cartoon video for “Dawned On Me” that has Jeff tweedy stealing Olive Oil from Popeye. Cracker remains John favorite band, and he posted a performance of David, Johnny, and the gang doing “One Fine Day” a couple
Days ago at Chicago Music Exchange.

Sarah McColly Wheeler must be out of the hospital because she posted photos of her beautiful newborn baby Liliya, 8.2 pounds, 19 inches, and with a 34.5 centimeter head. Toni picked up a baby present that I hope to give grandpa Fred next time he comes to the Archives. He’s been working five-day weeks lately.

Aaron “Beamer” Pickert joked: “So last night I get home and Kim tells me we are having Cornish gay men for dinner. I say, ‘Wonderful company, but what are we going to serve to eat?’” In parenthesis Beamer added: “We had Cornish game hens, and yes, I’m being silly.” I told beamer about Seven Wonders, one of my new favorites played at Halberstadt Game Weekend.

Mike Olszanski posted a photo of USW 6787 demonstrators posing next to “The Union Bus to Indy.” He added: “We’ll be back.” Exposing the hypocrisy of right-to-work legislation, Charles Halberstadt chimed in: “ A union saved my family. A union helped put food on my table. A union helped pay a mortgage. Now Governor Daniels and others (in the General Assembly) literally ignored the begs and pleas of workers as they voted to critically weaken unions in this state.”

Sometimes legislators reveal themselves to be pandering dimwits. Samuel A. Love reprinted a Times report about an Indiana Senate committee endorsing the teaching of creationism despite pleas from scientists and liberal religious spokesmen. Sam wrote: “Darwindamnit Indiana, what the natural selection is your problem?”

The Post-Trib’s Jerry Davich took heat from respondents for this joke about how tame “Old Man Winter” has been: “You ARE getting old if this is all you got this season. My shovel has cobwebs, my heavy coat is in the trunk, and my NIPSCO bill hasn’t cracked $150 yet. Come on. DO something!” Jerry’s reply to those who feared revenge from Mother Nature: “I am humbled yet baffled by everyone’s belief that I can somehow affect the weather by my Facebook posts.”

Tom Wade posted comedian Jon Stewart’s reaction to Governor Mitch Daniels’s doom and gloom “Mourning in America” response to Obamas’s state-of-the-union speech: “Either Daniels is from a psychotic, twisted, hellscape devoid of any joy or Oprah-like happiness or he is from Indiana.” Tom added: “Makes me proud to be a subpsychotic, supertwisted Hoosier.” Too bad we have such a subpar governor.

Son Dave reports that East Chicago Central grad E’Twaun Moore is getting more playing time with the Boston Celtics and scored 14 points recently. He, too, posts song videos, including a recent performance by Otis Redding.

“Death of a Good Officer,” a column in “Deadline Artists” by beloved Hoosier WW II war correspondent Ernie Pyle, is about a Captain Henry T. Waskow of Belton, Texas, whose body was brought from the Italian front lashed to the back of a mule, “lying belly-down, the head hanging down the left side, the stiffened legs sticking out awkwardly from the other side, bobbing up and down as the mule walked.” Several men knelt beside it and muttered expletives or in one case simply held the dead leader’s hand. Writing from a cowshed in January 1944, Pyle noted: “He was very young, only on his middle twenties, but he carried in him a sincerity and gentleness that made people want to be guided by him.”

Nick Mantis, who is doing a film documentary on write Jean Shepherd, dropped by the Archives. I gave him my Nineties Shavings, which contains numerous Shepherd witticisms and account of a hilarious luncheon talk he gave on the day in 1995 he received an honorary IU degree. Two years ago I brought the house down reading at the Miller beach Aquatorium reading excerpts from his Cedar Lake fishing tale, “Hairy Gertz and the Forty-Seven Crappies.” Even so, I wasn’t invited back the following year because some Millerites regard me as an outsider, having moved to Chesterton. Nick gave me permission to suggest him to Jeff Manes as a future SALT subject. Jeff liked the idea and quipped, “When he goes to church, he’s known as Praying Mantis ) I gotta million of them).”

After downing a double cheeseburger and value fries at McDonald’s for a total of $2.14, including tax, I saw “The Descendants.” George Clooney was great, as were Shailene Woodley and Amara Miller playing his sassy, somewhat out of control, previously neglected daughters. The story takes place on three Hawaiian islands, Oahu, Kauai, and the Big Island, and the scenery is spectacular. In one scene Clooney is driving from the airport and passes graffiti shaped by white coral rock on a lava rock background similar to what I witnessed last week. The Hawaiian songs that form the soundtrack, is also great. One song, “Paka Ua,” meaning raindrops, is by Ozzie Kotani and Daniel Ho (no relation to Don Ho of “Tiny Bubbles” fame).

In “Californication” Hank’s 12 year-old daughter Becca, whom he frequently fines when she curses, is in a rock band and in one episode ably performs “Surrender.” She has a crush on her guitar teacher and is jealous when her 16 year-old stepsister slut Mia bags him. Becca reminds me of my young granddaughters, older and wiser (in some respects) than their years but at the same time awfully vulnerable. One nice thing about Facebook: new photos of the grandkids appear aplenty almost daily.

I picked up Disturbed’s latest CD “The Lost Children” after hearing most cuts in Hawaii with my wingman Seattle Joe. It includes such ditties as “Hell,” “Monster,” “Sickened,” “Dehumanized,” “Midlife Crisis,” and ends with a rousing rendition of the Judas Priest standard “Living After Midnight” – a song also covered by The Donnas. Called Joe excited, and he remarked “Awesome” when I told him what I had on.

Helplessness Blues

2012-01-25T15:57:00.004-06:00

“Yeah I’m tongue-tied and dizzy
And I can’t keep it to myself.”
“Helplessness Blues,” Fleet Foxes

In the news: Destiny Myles (3) and brother Jeremiah (18 months) died of asphyxiation in a Chicago apartment fire that broke out while their six year-old brother was attempting to heat up a box containing pizza at three in the morning while his pregnant mother was asleep. How tragic their life was snuffed, trapped helplessly inside when the door slammed shut after their brother and mother escaped.

I decided to teach a Fall course on Tuesday afternoons and put Chris Young and Jonathyne Briggs on notice that I will enlist them to discuss their favorite journal, diary or memoir. Jonathyne loaned me “A Midwife’s Tale,” based on a 200 year-old diary. Chris is leaning toward “The Secret Diary of William Byrd of Westover (Virginia), 1709-1712. The entries focus on the wealthy planter’s relationship with his wife and servant, his daily diet, contemporary medical practices, and his observations of the world around him.

I bowled two practice games Tuesday and mentioned to owner Jim Fowble about recently being in Hawaii. He took R & R in Honolulu in 1970 halfway through his 365-day Vietnam tour of duty. Imagine, a brief respite in paradise from a year in hell. I mentioned that Jim Tolhuizen operated in the Parrots Beak area then and was grievously wounded during the Cambodian invasion. “I went to Cambodia, too,” Jim said, adding that it’s hard to believe that was 42 years ago.

Post-Trib teen advice columnist Dr. Robert Wallace, a Gary native, apologized for an earlier column where he told a girl to simply ignore repeated notes from a guy asking whether she was a virgin. After many feminists complained, Wallace realized that he should have told her to report the sexual harassment to authorities.

Got an old-fashioned letter from Terry Helton in Montana. It’s common procedure at the nursing home where he works to waken folks four times a night. No wonder, he concludes, that so many of them are in foul moods. He’s sad over two friends deciding to move away from Ennis and quite soured on politics. An African American himself, he writes that it is funny how electing a black man president can turn some people into “raving lunatics.”

Because Indiana Republican legislators are striving to pass a right-to-work bill, a group has formed calling themselves “lunch bucket Republicans,” unionists who may run candidates in the primary against anti-union incumbents. My question to them would by, why even bother to remain Republicans? If Romney proves to be the Ed Muskie of 2012, the Wall Street establishment might try to draft Chris Christie (could he survive the SNL parodies bringing attention to his humongous weight?) or Indiana’s Mitch Daniels, convicted of possession of pot while a student at Princeton and an SOB of the worst kind. My favorite current example of mudslinging – that Santorum’s wife Karen lived for years with an abortion doctor 41 years her senior. Hey, nobody’s perfect.

Ray Smock wrote: “Lunch Bucket Republicans, Log Cabin Republicans, I say they should stick their logs in their lunch buckets and munch away. The Republican Party is experiencing what Democrats have had to live with for a long time: a disorganized party flying off in all directions. This is hard for conservatives to grasp, since part of the conservative mind-set is to avoid thinking about consequences. The Republicans may end up with a brokered convention if Newt doesn’t completely self-destruct by then. I still think what’s left of the old Republican Party likes Jeb Bush best. But could the country stomach a third Bush? A Bush/ Christie or Christie/ Bush ticket would make the Republican establishment happy.” In a previous email Ray wrote, “Newt is no Dick Nixon. He is just a dick.”

During the post-WW II Red Scare Gary-born actor William Marshall was fired from the 1953 TV series “Harlem Detective” after the rightwing group Counterattack targeted him. Paul Robeson fared even worse, not only blacklisted but also arrested for circulating a peace petition when the Korean War erupted and denied a passport due to sympathetic remarks he made about détente with the Soviet Union. When the Gary school board prevented him from giving a concert at Roosevelt School, the Reverend L.K. Jackson hosted the concert at his church. W.E.B. DuBois met a similar fate, joined the CP in his eighties, and died in Ghana, where the Pan-Africanist received a state funeral.

Looked up “Othello” quotes that William Marshall would have uttered playing the Moor commander. The most famous is from his farewell speech where he says, “Then must you speak of one that loved not wisely but too well.” In the end racism is at the heart of the tragedy. In the opening act evil Iago tells the father of Desdemona that “an old black man if tupping (fucking) your white ewe” and advises: “Awake the snorting citizens with the bell, or else the devil will make a grandsire of you.”

In the opener of IUN’s Homecoming basketball double-header against Andrews University, located in Berrien Springs, Michigan Sharon Houston led the Lady Redhawks to their tenth straight win. Thanks to Student Affairs coordinator Mary Lee, about a hundred kids from the Northwest Indiana Boys and Girls Club cheered on the Redhawks and boogied with the cheerleaders during a time-out. The deejay was blasting out music whenever there was a break in the action with the bass so loud the stands seemed to vibrate. One contest required a boy and a girl to spin around 15 times and then pick up a ball and make a basket. They were both so dizzy they could hardly stand.

At halftime I ate chili and a hamburger with Chuck Gallmeier and staff members Delores Crawford (University Relations) and Sandra Hall Smith (SPEA). We talked about Bob Lovely, whom Chuck characterized in a press release as perhaps the best friend IU Northwest ever had. Nobody ever had a more appropriate surname. Bob handled his illness with amazing grace and courage. He and Dolores once beat me in a jitterbug contest during a holiday Gala. “We practiced during lunch hours,” she admitted. My partner was an Education professor whom I’d never met before.

Home in time for most of Obama’s State of the Union address. He touted immigration reform and taxing millionaires at least as much as their secretaries. Sitting next to the First Lady was the secretary of Warren Buffet, who suggested the idea. “America Built to Last” was the central theme. Obama gave Congresswoman Gabrielle “ Gabby” Giffords a long hug where they appeared to rock from side to side, demonstrating that he understood how incredibly brave she has been since a rightwing nut shot her. Pretty classy – like the Prez singing a line from “Let’s Stay Together” a few days ago doing a perfect falsetto Reverend Al Green impression. Afterwards CBS showed an episode of “Big Bang Theory.” Sheldon (Jim Parsons) reminds me of Bucknellian Roger McConnell, who roomed with me in an unheated attic my junior year. If we left the door to the second floor open the temp would only go down to about 40 degrees overnight.

I stayed home to watch Gabby Giffords’s farewell appearance in the House of Representatives. After Minority Whip Steny Hoyer, a University of Maryland grad, said, “We’ll miss you,” she whispered back, “I’ll miss you, too.” Tears flowed freely even from the eyes of normally heartless Republicans. Watching her walk with effort to the podium to deliver her resignation letter to Speaker John Boehner was unforgettable. Even though Gabby’s husband, former astronaut Mark Kelly, ruled out running to replace her, I won’t bet against a future in politics for either or both of them.

I emailed LeeLee Devenney three photos from my trip to the Big Island that nephew Tom Dietz sent me. In one I wearing an AT Auto cap that Bruce Allen gave everyone at my high school reunion. Another shows me in the Pacific Ocean body surfing, and a third is of three goats staring at us from lava rocks. I wrote: “The ocean photo of me and 65 year-old nephew Nick isn’t the most flattering, but at least I had the good sense to keep my bathing suit on at the clothes-optional beach. How about those old goats (the ones on the lava rocks)?”

LeeLee replied that she and Bob were house sitting four dogs, two cats, and a mother-in-law in Reading, Pennsylvania. I emailed: “When I first played Monopoly after moving to Indiana, someone pronounced
Reading, as in the Reading Railroad, like "reading a book." My dad commuted to Philly on the Reading Railroad, as did I two summers when I worked in a law firm mailroom, thinking I'd be a lawyer in the future.”

I can’t get Dylan’s “Idiot Wind (blowing like a circle around my skull, from the Grand Coulee Dam to the Capitol)” out of my head. One side one of “Blood on the tracks,” it expresses disillusionment, helplessness and outrage at a “howling beast” (Nixon?) who covered up the truth with lies. Referencing the Grand Coulee Dam, troubadour Dylan pays tribute to his mentor Woody Guthrie, who recorded a song by that title.

I picked up a 12-inch Subway for $5.35 (half for today, half for lunch tomorrow) and found a parking spot in the small lot north of Thirty-Fifth between Washington and Adams. Someone had left a half-full Red Bull nearby, and I spilled some on my shoe when I picked it up. Yuck! Supped on yogurt and cookies at 5:15 before departing for bowling. Engineers took all seven points from Here 4 the Beer, as we all bowled above average. Melvin Nelson led the way with a series of more than a hundred pins over his average. On the lanes next to us Joe Piunti and his sons opposed the Dingbats, a team that was right behind us in the standings. Joe has been hobbling on bad knees and his average is down about 40 pins from what it once. With each team having won a game, Joe barely missed a triple in the final frame but converted the spare and then struck out, finishing the night with a series in the 520s. The Dingbats’ anchorman left the 4-10 “baby split” and needed to pick it up and then strike for his team to win. His ball veered to the left at the last moment and knocked down only the four-pin, putting a smile on Joe’s face. Like me, he’s a competitor but seems to be able to enjoy when things go well without brooding when they don’t.

In the bar afterwards, Bob Scheid and Ken Cichocki asked me how Hawaii was. I was glad to oblige. On the drive home listened to “Ten at Ten” with Bob Stroud on WDRV (“The Drive”). The year was 1968, and the first three tunes were “Going to the Country” (like many hippies did) by Canned Heat, “I Heard It Through the Grapevine” by Marvin Gaye (featured in the 1983 movie “The Big Chill”), and “Piece of My heart,” by Janis Joplin singing with Big Brother and the Holding Company. Called Bill Batalis with the bowling good news and put Letterman on mute since it was a repeat and got mellow listening to Foster the People.

Hard Rain

2012-01-23T13:12:00.003-06:00

“Life is sad,
Life is a bust,
All ya can do,
Is do what you must.”
“Buckets of Rain,” Bob Dylan

A hard rain plus temperature in the upper 40s eliminated most snow that had fallen three days ago, save for piles where plows had dumped the white stuff. Because of the weather, I stayed home Friday after going to the Chesterton library in the morning. I checked out “Deadline Artists,” a compendium of classic newspaper columns on war, politics, humor, crime, and farewells. What hooked me were columns by H. L. Mencken on Warren Gamaliel Harding and the Scopes Monkey trial and numerous essays by New Yorker Jimmy Breslin, including one concerning John Lennon’s death written within hours of the shooting. The initial entry by Richard Harding Davis describes the German war machine crossing into neutral Belgium in August of 1914. Entitled “Like a River of Steel It Flowed, Gray and Ghostlike,” Harding wrote: “At this minute it is rolling through Brussels as the swollen waters of the Conemaugh Valley swept through Johnstown” – a reference to the 1889 Pennsylvania flood that killed more than 2,200 people after a dam burst, sending a 36-foot wall of water rumbling through town at 40 miles an hour and, according to witnesses, crushing houses like eggshells.

On “Homeland” a 16 year-old is listening to “Pumped Up Kicks” by Foster the People at a critical plot moment. On “Californication” a young woman steals Hank Moody’s 1974 Bob Dylan album “Blood on the Tracks” after having sex with him. Locating the album among my collection, as I listened to the first cut, “Tangled Up in Blue” (“The only thing I knew to do was keep on keeping on”), I read the liner notes by Pete Hamill entitled “Poems of a Survivor.” Referring to Vietnam, Hamill writes: “Early on, he warned us, he gave many of us voice, he told us about the hard rain that was going to fall and how it would carry plague.” Hamill concludes: “We live with a callous on the heart. Only the artists can remove it and help the poor land again to feel.” Pretty, pretty, pretty good, as Larry David would say.

In my Vietnam class I used to show an excerpt from the 1987 documentary “Dear America: Letters from Vietnam” that used Dylan’s “A Hard Rain’s Gonna Fall” in the background while someone reads a letter from a private first class named Raymond Griffiths, who died at age 19 on July 4, 1967, shortly after writing home to a friend named Madeleine. He wondered if his girlfriend Darlene had been faithful to him and said he’d make it out alive if it were God’s will. Apparently it wasn’t.

Saturday we dined with the Hagelbergs at a place near our condo called Sage (I had delicious scallops), and we played bridge afterwards. While I was in Hawaii Jeff Manes did a Post-Trib SALT column about Dick at my suggestion. Interestingly, what ran in the Gary edition was shorter than the Porter County version. The interview took place at Dick’s business in Miller, Kidstuff Playsystems. After Jeff mentioned me, this exchange took place.

DH: “I’ve known Jim for many, many years. We play bridge together; he’s very good.”

JM: “Are you as liberal as Jim?”

DH: “Almost, not quite.”

The longer version also appeared on the Post-Trib website. On his bio page he described himself humorously as “an agnostic socialist who has never been nominated for any journalistic awards”. He expressed gratitude that the Post-Tribune includes photographs of its columnists, lest readers mistake him for the canine Ollie. The P-T has an “Ask Ollie” column purportedly penned by a dog rescued by a local humane society following Hurricane Katrina.

Tom Wade turned me on to a female duo, Riki Lindhome and Kate Micucci, that call themselves Garfunkel and Oates (after the sidekicks of Paul Simon and Daryl Hall). Among their parodies posted on YouTube are “Pregnant Women Are Smug” and “Sex with Ducks” (inspired by Reverend Pat Robertson’s remark that legalizing gay marriage was a first step toward allowing people to have sex with ducks). Tom’s favorite is “Save the Rich,” dedicated in Occupy Wall Street demonstrators, which contains the refrain: “Let job creators keep more than their fair share/ So they can go to Asia and create jobs over there/ So give the special tax breaks/ Who cares about Detroit?” They also do such risqué songs as “Handjob, Bland Job, I Don’t Understand Job” and “This Party Took a Turn for the Douche.” Tom wants to see them live in Chicago next month.

In the news: Newt Gingrich trounced Romney in South Carolina by bashing the press (how dare they bring up his second ex-wife’s allegation that he sought an open marriage so he could continue banging Callista, then his mistress, now his wife) and playing the race card, calling Obama the food stamp president. Gabby Giffords, shot last year in Arizona by a rightwing nut, is resigning her seat in Congress but promises to run again after she regains her health. Penn State coach Joe Paterno “Joe Pa” succumbed to lung cancer and a broken heart in the wake of the child molestation scandal involving his longtime assistant.

I won two of four board games before settling in for an afternoon of NFL football. Two goats emerged from the close playoff games. Ravens kicker Billy Cundiff missed an easy field goal, and San Francisco punt returner Kyle Williams had two turnovers, first when a ball grazed his leg and then in OT when he fumbled, leading to the winning field goal. Earlier Vernon Davis was penalized 15 yards for jumping on a cameraman’s podium after a 73-yard TD catch. What a stupid rule. Meanwhile, it’s OK to dunk the ball through the uprights or for Packers players to leap into the stands; the latter was “grandfathered” into the rules forbidding unnecessary celebrations. By that logic veteran cornerbacks should be allowed to employ helmet-to-helmet hits.

Sociology professor Bob Lovely passed away. Although I knew the end was near, still the news brought tears to my eyes. He was a kind man and a great teacher whom students loved. On a happier note Fred McColly called to tell me his daughter Sarah made him a grandfather.

Gaard Murphy Logan reported on the storms that struck the Seattle area. She and Chuck lost power and the freezing rain caused three large branches to come crashing down in their backyard and two other trees to be leaning on the garage and house. They are in the market for a chainsaw, but the stores were sold out.

In the cafeteria was 72 year-old Fred Chary, who is back teaching a course on Eastern Europe. He is using John Reed’s book on the Russian Revolution “Ten Days That Shook the World” and showed the class excerpts from the 1981 film “Reds” starring Warren Beatty and featuring “witness” interviews with such luminaries as writer Henry Miller and peace activist Scott Nearing.

Still mulling over whether to teach a fall History Topics course on “Diaries, Journals, and Memoirs,” I checked out both abridged and unabridged (11 volumes) versions of Samuel Pepys’s “Secret Diary.” Writing about seventeenth—century England young Pepys covers such events as the Stuart restoration, the Great Plague, the London Fire, as well as social diversions as royal balls and public cockfights (he wrote: “It is strange to see how people of this poor rank, that look as if they had not bread to put in their mouths, shall bet three or four pounds at a time”). Though married, Pepys was a notorious womanizer and
had numerous affairs, including one with his wife’s maid, Deborah Whitten. The diary was written in shorthand and covered a ten-year span beginning in 1660. He stopped after fearing that he was going blind.

At the Library

2012-01-18T11:21:00.002-06:00

“Staring across the room
Are you leaving soon?
I just need a little time.”
“At the Library,” Green Day

I am trying to locate Gary Roosevelt yearbooks from the early 1940s to see what actor William Marshall was up to in high school. Since the downtown Gary library closed at the end of last year, I don’t know how to gain access to its Indiana room. Archives volunteer Maurice Yancy said that most old yearbooks that were once in Roosevelt’s school library are missing, pilfered probably, and he was pessimistic about me have better luck in the Indiana Room. In IUN’s library stacks I found four good books about African Americans in the movies and television, including Daniel J. Leab’s “From Sambo to Superspade.” On Facebook Sam Barnett, aka Samuel A. Love, posted a video of Green Day’s “At the Library” and wrote: “Just reminding that not a single library closed in this country during the Great Depression! The rationalizations of why so many are closing now are miserable lies.” Two Gary firemen visited the Archives today because the downtown library was inaccessible.

Mike Olszanski is going on a union bus with Paul Kaczocha and Dr. T. Iverson to protest state legislators trying to ram through a right-to-work law. He writes: “Maybe we should plan on sleeping there until these Republican jerks get the idea. No RTW!!!!” Democrats are again threatening to boycott the session.

Karren Lee asked me to distribute flyers announcing that Gail Archer, a Grammy nominated organist, will be performing at St. Mary of the Lake Church in Miller a week from Sunday. Was glad to oblige. Vickie ran some off, and Scott Fulk of Student Life stamped them approved.

Jonathyne Briggs reported that his AHA session on “Cold War Kids: The Ideologies of Punk in the East and West” went fine and was well attended. His paper was entitled “Force de Frappe: Rock against Communism in Socialist France.” He has asked Chancellor William Lowe to talk about Ireland in his spring class on terrorism. That would be fun to attend. The first course topic will be the American Revolution. Imagine – our founding fathers were terrorists.

Yesterday I bought a pair of comfortable boots at Bass Pro Shop in Portage, my first visit there. Grandson Anthony likes to go there and use their archery target. Merrell boots, recommended by nephew Tom Dietz, seemed too heavy duty and cost three times as much as the Redhead pair I purchased.

After watching “Homeland” on Showtime, I checked out an episode of “Californication,” a series in its fifth season starring David Duchovny as a writer who bedded down three women in a half hour. In each case Duchovny was on the bottom, allowing the camera to capture action shots of the actresses naked from the waist up. Episode one began with Duchovny fantasizing about receiving a bj from a nun. Evidently the show has been on the air since 2007 and Duchovny is a Golden Globe winner. Judging from what I have seen on the premium cable channels at least one soft core porn scene is almost obligatory – not that I’m a prude and complaining. In one scene the writer’s 12 year-old daughter tells him that there’s a naked lady in his bedroom and something must be wrong with her because she doesn’t have any hair near her vagina.

More dead bodies were uncovered on the Italian cruise ship “Costa Concordia,” which crashed into a rock and tilted over on its side. Captain Francesco Schettino, who took the ship too close to shore and then abandoned ship on a lifeboat before most passengers were evacuated, has been put under house arrest.

Wikipedia is blacked out all day in protest over a proposed piece of legislation that, to quote the online encyclopedia, “could fatally damage the free and open Internet.” In sympathy Google has inserted a black rectangle over its logo. Three times I tried unsuccessfully to access sites. I did manage to find a YouTube clip of William Marshall appearing on a 1964 episode of “Bonanza” entitled “Enter Thomas Bowers.” General Motors, the sponsor, threatened to withdraw from the program upon learning that Marshall and two other black performers, Ena Hartman and Ken Renard, would appear, but the corporation backed down after confrontations with NBC and the NAACP. Marshall played a celebrated opera singer who faces arrest because some believe him to be an escaped slave. In the end he sings a selection from Rossini’s “The Barber of Seville.” Strikingly handsome with a rich baritone voice, he was fantastic.

Vietnam vet George Rasmussen came across my blog about the death of Jim Tolhuizen and informed me that he was wounded by the same sniper who shot Jim on May 10, 1970 during the Cambodian invasion. He added: “Everything that you wrote in your article about Jim was right on the money. The good friend that he said died in a rocket attack was Paul Stepp. I sent in a picture of Paul, and it is posted on the virtual wall web site. Based on everything I've read about Jim on the Internet, he was a well liked member of the faculty, a good friend and it appears that he made good use of the additional ‘time’ he was granted.” I sent George a copy of my “Vietnam Veterans from the Calumet Region” Shavings issue.

Ray Smock sent me an email entitled “C-SPAN’s Kinkiest Moment.” He goes on to say, “The National Constitution Center has posted a Twitter link to a part of my 2005 C-SPAN interview where I tell the story of how I became Ben Franklin’s body double. But here is the real reason for looking at this. This is a record setting appearance. I am the only historian to have ever appeared on C-SPAN in my underwear. This is a record to be proud of. It is, perhaps, the kinkiest thing C-SPAN has ever done.” Sure enough, one shot shows Ray in black briefs.

At lunch math professor Jon Becker said he took my Vietnam War class in 1984. He and psychology prof Karl Nelson discussed cell phones being classroom annoyances and students accessing Facebook rather than taking notes. Missing was the normal English department contingent. I noticed that Alan Barr is showing the x-rated “Last Tango in Paris” in his film class, starring Marlon Brando and Maria Schneider and directed by Bernardo Bertolucci.

Talked Toni into making steak sandwiches with mushrooms and onions for dinner. Dave “Duke” Kaminsky bowled for me because I attended the January condo board meeting at Bernie Holicky’s place, where the main issue was whether or not an owner should be allowed to have a whirlpool adjacent to his back deck. Bernie was formerly a librarian at Purdue Calumet. IU was up by seven against Nebraska when I left but lost 70-69.

Trip to the Big Island

2012-01-16T11:46:00.005-06:00

“Here’s to the golden moon
And here’s to the silver sea.”
“Tiny Bubbles,” Don Ho

I kept hearing Don Ho’s “Tiny Bubbles” in my head as I embarked on an eight-day trip to glorious Hawaii. Toni and I had seen Don Ho live several times at Duke Kahanamoku’s nightclub on at Waikiki’s Hawaiian Village in Honolulu while we lived on Oahu in 1965-66. We visited Maui in 1990 and Honolulu with Miranda three years ago, but I had never before been on the “Big Island” of Hawaii. I flew with Tom Dietz from Phoenix to Kona International Airport. It only rains on the Kona Coast about ten inches a year, and the terrain can best be described as a lava desert. It’s quite beautiful though, and people have used white coral stones to write messages about loved ones on the black lava rocks.

Home base was a gorgeous house at Waikaloa Village. The only fast food at the nearby shopping center was (thankfully) a Subway, and at the Food Market Steinlager Beer imported from New Zealand was on sale for $12.99 a 12-pack. Most days I hiked there (a 20 minute walk) for coffee and pastry to start the day. On Monday (sunny and in the seventies, perfect for touring) Tom, Joe, and I headed for Kohala, along the northern coast. First stop was Puukohola Heiau, where King Kamehameha built a temple to the war god Kukailimoku as he prepared to conquer his rivals and unite Hawaii under his rule. Then we visited the ruins of a 600 year-old fishing village before driving to the breathtaking Pololu Valley lookout. It was once a place of refuge for Hawaians who violated the strict kapu system; if they could make it there alive, they could atone for their crimes. One taboo forbade women from eating bananas or coconuts. After downing smoothies in the town of Hawi and snapping photos posing with a colorful statue of Kamehameha we drove through cattle ranch country, encountering black goats, a mongoose or two, wild turkeys, and donkeys by the road.

Tuesday we toured the Hilo side, visiting Akaka Falls on the way to Hawaii Volcanoes National Park, home to Kilauea volcano. Unlike the tourist posters, about all one sees at the crater is a big hole with steam coming out. In 1790 a rival king named Keoua was marching against Kamehameha but lost a third of his troops when a major eruption occurred. Some saw it as evidence that fire goddess Pele was angry over his troops throwing rocks into Kilauea and that she favored Kamehameha. Keoua subsequently tried to surrender but was slain and sacrificed at Puukohola Heiau. Another major eruption occurred in 1924, and in 1990 a lava flow destroyed most of the town of Kalapana. Kilauea is still very active but finding its way to the sea through a lava tube. Driving around the southern tip of Hawaii, we often encountered lava flows from Mauna Loa, the largest of the five volcanoes that formed the island, whose most recent eruption occurred in 1984. Meanwhile we listened to hits from the 70s and 80s (Cars, Deep Purple, Average White Band, Fleetwood Mac) on LAVA radio 103.5, frequently singing along to oldies such as “Magic Bus” by the Who.

Most other days we visited beaches along the Kona coast, usually near beautiful resorts. Some were of the black sand variety, while other white sand beaches were perfect for body surfing. With 12-foot waves breaking a hundred yards from the shore I hadn’t had that much fun in the water in years. We saw huge turtles along one shore and whales surfacing on the horizon while using a Marriott Resort hot tub (I also swam laps in their giant pool). Thursday evening Marriott had half-price night on dinner entrees, so they did get some of our money.

My last full day on the island we went to the 175 year-old Hulihe’e Palace in Kailua-Kona, which included many traditional artifacts, including dishes and mallets for pounding poi, as well as things brought back from his world tour by King David Kalakaua, the so-called “Merry Monarch,” who built Iolani Palace in Honolulu, where I did research into the administration of Governor Joseph Boyd Poindexter for my masters thesis. There was a special bed built for Princess Ruth Ke’elikolani, who weighed 400 pounds and was almost seven feet tall. The guide mentioned that sugar planters imported the mongoose to combat rats, but since they are active during the day and rats are nocturnal, mongooses feasted on birds and their eggs, causing many beautiful species to become extinct. Eating sliders and fish tacos at Huggo’s On the Rocks during Happy Hour, we listened to Hawaiian music and watched the sunset (it got more applause than the entertainer). Before we left a hula dancer charmed the standing room only crowd. We topped the evening off at the Royal Kona Resorts (no problem walking through the grounds even though we were non-paying visitors), gawking at the ocean surf and listening to music from a stage show.

I took along David Balducci’s novel “Last Man Standing” (a suspenseful “page turner” – the villains were white supremacists who blew up an integrated school in Virginia) and managed to finish it by trip’s end. Other reading material at the house included Mark Twain’s “Roughing It in the Sandwich Islands” and a delightful children’s book “Princess Bianca and the Vandals.” A Wall Street Journal Arts section contained a review of Pico Iyer’s “The Man Within My Head” about Graham Greene that contained this quote by my favorite novelist about keeping a journal as a form of therapy: “Sometimes I wonder how all those who do not write, compose or paint, can manage to escape the madness, the melancholia, the panic and fear which is inherent in the human situation.” I remained pretty oblivious to news events but did watch the thrilling NFL playoff victory of San Francisco over New Orleans. People watching at the Kona Airport, I saw folks who reminded by of old Upper Dublin teachers Frank Gilronan and Geraldine Biles.

Home to find snow on the ground (no surprise), the For Sale sign gone from the unit next to us, and a new furnace for the condo (the old one went out during the snowstorm). Sunday’s Post-Tribune had a Jerry Davich feature on 93 year-old Tuskegee Airman Quentin Smith, looking forward to being a special guest at the Chicago premier of George Lucas’s “Red Tails.” Smith told of being put in the Fort Knox stockade at war’s end for refusing to leave an officers’ club reserved for whites only. After Thurgood Marshall and the NAACP protested, President Harry S Truman ordered the men released. Clara Danes won a Golden Globe award for her portrayal of a CIA officer on the TV series “Homeland,” said to be Barack Obama’s favorite show.

IUN’s library was closed for Martin Luther King Day, but I managed to get in and expunge the 200+ emails that had accumulated in my absence. One from the owner of the condo next to us mentioned that renters (a mother and daughter) will be moving in shortly. The university appeared to have made it through the first week of the Spring semester without me. One event I missed lamentably was a program about the 1961 Freedom Riders. The panel included former Gary mayor Richard Gordon Hatcher. Jon Huntsman, the only decent Republican presidential hopeful, withdrew from the race. As Martin Luther King, who would have been 83 years old today, said, “We must learn to live together as brothers or perish as fools.” Near the entrance to the Archives is an exhibit Steve McShane put together about the student demonstrations leading to the university observing Martin Luther King Day. For our forty-seventh wedding anniversary Toni cooked up steaks, potatoes, and cauliflower. Dave invited us over for dinner, but we begged off as we were both tired.

Lions and Lambs

2012-01-04T11:02:00.005-06:00

“Got shackles on, my words are tied
Fear can make you compromise.”
“Houdini,” Foster the People

Harry Houdini had no trouble with shackles but wasn’t ready for the sucker punch that fatally burst his appendix. The Foster the People “Houdini” line about compromising reminds me of the Counting Crows line in “Round Here” about talking like lions but sacrificing like lambs. Talk about sucker punches: Mitt “the shit” Romney’s Super PAC did a number on Newt “the hoot” Gingrich, who emerged from the Iowa caucuses, to quote one pundit, like a wounded lion eager to exact his revenge. To eke out a quarter of the votes frontrunner Romney continued to compromise his beliefs (if indeed he has any) pandering for votes from the Religious Right. He’s done a one eighty on abortion and buckled on global warming. We’ll see if he turns out to be the Ed Muskie of 2012. As Matt Taibbi wrote on his Rolling Stone blog, what did all the sound and fury in Iowa mean: absolutely nothing. He points out that the candidate who raises the most money wins more than 94 percent of the time. In Romney’s case, it was by eight votes over former Pennsylvania Senator Rick Santorum. Tea Party sacrificial lamb Michele Bachman is gone, and Rick “the prick” Perry is probably next.

Speaking of lions, the final words of Steve Jobs allegedly were, “Oh, wow, oh, wow, oh, wow!” Did he see a shining light at the end, one wonders, or just a black abyss? Did he feel great pain or liberation from same?

Save for catching a cold, the holidays went great. Got in numerous card games. Grandchildren abounded for a week, and numerous good friends dropped in, including Hagelbergs, Horns, and Wades. For Christmas I received a lumberjack shirt (Phil got matching ones for himself and Dave), slippers, jelly, the CDs “Torches” by Foster the People and “Lisbon” by the Walkmen (from Alissa’s boyfriend Josh), and “Seabiscuit” author Laura Hillenbrand’s “Unbroken: A World War II Story of Survival, Resilience and Redemption” (from daughter-in-law Beth). Robert Blaszkiewicz’s annual CD of his 20 favorite songs of the year included Foster the People’s hit “Pumped Up Kicks” as well as numbers by veterans WILCO, the Feelies, and REM. On Wednesday December 27 the last folks to leave were Phil, Beth and Alissa plus Angie and the kids.

Talked to old classmates Mary Delp, Gaard Murphy, Phil Arnold, Bob Reller, and Wayne Wylie, who informed me that John Magyar passed away. A starter on Upper Dublin’s basketball team, he and his brother Mike used to shoot hoops at my place. Rel’s son is a high-ranking naval officer. I told him about nephew Fritz working at Notre Dame in the navy ROTC program.

Thursday 12/29 an Asian lady trimmed my toenails at L.A. Nails ($5), got my hair cut at Quick Cut ($12), picked up an airport bus schedule in Portage (I’ll have to go to Highland to catch my Saturday 7 am flight to Hawaii), and stopped at Town and Country for groceries. I discovered the HBO series “Game of Thrones” On Demand. It’s got plenty of violence and nudity but grabbed my attention immediately. Filmed in scenic Northern Ireland, it deals with families vying for control of the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros. In short order I watched the entire ten episodes of season one. The spectacular final scene features a funeral pyre for Dothraki warlord Khal Drogo, whose wife Khaleesi emerges from the fire nude but unscathed with three newborn dragons. Bring on season two, due in April! Aside from Khaleesi, the most fascinating character is nine year-old Arya Stark, daughter of Lord Eddard, the right hand man of the king (shockingly beheaded at the end of episode nine) and a willful tomboy to the core.

On Friday, opening day of Game Weekend at the Halberstadts, I had an amazing streak of luck, winning five of seven games, including Small World, Seven Wonders, Medici, and the new hit Revolution. It was so popular someone ran to buy the expanded version, which accommodates up to six players. In Wits and Wagers a question asked how many times members of Congress applauded during one of Bush’s 49-minute State of the Union addresses. I guessed 59; the answer was 58. Since you can’t go over, the person who wrote down 44 got credit, not me. Dave went ahead nailing the number of Olympic medals Carl Lewis won (ten), but I rebounded knowing when the movie “Casablanca” came out (1942). We both knew the final answer, 1789, the year of George Washington’s first inaugural, but I had more money to bet.

Game Weekend attendance, up from last time, included John Hendricks from Wisconsin, the Davis family from Fort Wayne, and several guys from Indianapolis who had met Jef at gaming conventions. One was Patrick Malott, works for a video game company in Austin, Texas, called BioWare. His t-shirt had a logo of Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic, one of the games he works on. I was teaching three of them St. Petersburg when a little kid spilled an entire glass of pop in the middle of everything in a bid to gain his dad’s attention.

Saturday I finished last in Revolution, caught up in a turf battle with Charles Halberstadt and stymied by Patti Davis employing a strategy similar to one I used the day before, but Sunday my luck returned with victories in Amun Re and Acquire (in a four-player game that Evan Davis would have pulled out if it had lasted one turn longer). One treat was playing in a game of Air Baron with Evan, who had invented the game. When Hendricks bragged about besting him, Evan replied that many folks could claim that honor.

No interest in the final week of the NFL season since Eagles and Bears were out of playoff contention but loved watching Indiana upset number two Ohio State 74-70 in a nail biter. Even though freshman Cory Zeller had trouble scoring and fouled out with three minutes to go, Christian Watford, Victor Oladipo and Jordan Hulls came through in the clutch. Bulls have won four of five and are fun to watch with MVP Derrick Rose.

Monday, January 2, being an official holiday, Fred Chary invited me to watch the annual NHL outdoor classic featuring Flyers against Rangers. Lake effect snow and a lingering cold kept me home, but we were in phone touch like during the 1970s. Despite being awarded a penalty shot in the final minute, the Flyers succumbed due to superior goal tending by Ranger Henrik Lundqvist. Between commercials I got into “Unbroken,” about Louis Zamperini, who competed in the 1936 Berlin Olympics before becoming a bombardier during WW II, who survived being adrift in the Pacific and incarceration in a Japanese POW camp. He was an incorrigible hell-raiser as a child until an older brother channeled his energy into long-distance running.

Tuesday the IUN library opened after 12 days, and a hundred emails awaited me, including messages from high school friend Pat Zollo (about mutual friend Paul Curry, who died in Vietnam) and grad school buddy Ray Smock (who is delivering the annual alumnus speech April 2 at Maryland). Niece Andrea reported that it is sunny with highs in the 80s on the Big Island of Hawaii and that she and Seattle Joe can’t wait for Tom and me to arrive. Cafeteria was virtually deserted save for Alan Lindmark, who supposedly retired in December. Ron Cohen’s son Josh, visiting the credit union, recognized me and showed off a photo of his son, who looks just like him. “I call him Mini-Me,” he said with a grin, referring to a character in an Austin Powers movie.

Steve McShane received an email from the nephew of Kathryn Hyndman, who discovered that we have her aunt’s jail diary in the Archives. Steve is sending him my “Age of Anxiety” issue and invited them to the Archives.

Wednesday at the credit union I ran into Leroy Gray, formerly head of IUN’s Financial Aid office. We ended up having lunch and reminiscing about Region high school basketball and gushing over IU’s present number 12-ranked team. He asked about my former colleague Paul Kern, and I inquired about Ernest Smith, who moved to the Houston area a couple years ago.

Researching the career of Gary-born actor William Marshall, I discovered that among the half dozen productions of “Othello” that he starred in, one was a 1968 jazz musical with Jerry Lee Lewis playing Iago. In 1953 he was in the first TV series starring black actors, “Harlem Detective,” until blacklisted for being a member of two supposed communist “front” groups. A lion, he was friends with W.E.B. DuBois.

Steve McShane informed me that a researcher named Katie Turk will be visiting the archives to do research on the Kingsbury ammunition plant during World War II. My old friend Paul Turk’s daughter has the same name.

DeeDee Ige convened a pre-planning meeting of the Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion group in advance of a lunch date Friday with Chancellor Lowe. Many Gary residents were outraged when an able faculty member was denied tenure and then, after she died, few members of the administration attended her memorial service. My role will be to suggest ways to increase meaningful contact between the Gary community and the campus.

Librarian Audrea Davis gave me a copy of a 2010 report the Jeff Johnson Institute compiled on recommendations for community engagement and relationship-building. One suggestion was to launch an “Ambassador program” utilizing faculty, staff and students in making the community aware of university events and vice versa. Staff members such as Kathy Malone and Mary Lee already have assumed such a role and Ken Coopwood helped establish a black student leadership group, but more use could be made of former administrators such as Leroy Gray(Financial Aid), Bill Lee (Admissions), F.C. Richardson (Dean of Arts and Sciences) and Barbara Cope (Dean of Student Affairs). When former chancellor Peggy Elliott took the reins at South Dakota State, Barbara Cope and Bill Lee helped her recruit area Black students. Why not enlist them to do the same for IUN? I’d also like to see former chancellor Hilda Richards welcomed back to campus events. Unfairly maligned by those who would have preferred a WASP male leader, she was a good person who got two buildings built and the social work program launched.

Jeff Johnson also recommended “arts focused” special events. We do a good job celebrating Martin Luther King’s birthday, and coming up is a program commemorating the Freedom Riders of 50 years ago. Two other possibilities are a symposium recalling the historic 1972 National Black Political Convention at West Side High School and an event honoring the memory of Gary-born Shakespearean actor William Marshall and his mother Thelma Marshall, for many years head of the Lake County Children’s Home. William Marshall’s daughter Gina Loring is an accomplished poet and hip hop performer as well as a political activist. Gregg Andrews, who wrote a biography of Thelma’s sister Thyra Edwards, emailed that Gina performed at his campus and “to say that she WOWED our students would be an understatement.” He added: “I’m sure she’d jump at any chance to perform where her grandmother made such an important contribution to the community of Gary.”

The last time Jeff Johnson was on campus, he spoke with and listened to interested members of the IUN community. Perhaps he should be invited back to interact with Gary residents who still believe the campus is too aloof and insensitive to issues of diversity and inclusion.

I helped the Engineers win five points against the Town Drunks by bowling my average (barely). In the one close game Dick Maloney doubled in the tenth and finished with a 203.On the other team were Joe Piunti and his three sons, plus Chris Lugo, who bowled for us one year. I told JP, as I call Joe, that the family that bowls together stays together. Dave has been taking James bowling Saturday mornings, and we talked about an excursion with Phil over Christmas, but it didn’t happen. Too many other things going on.

Long Way Home

2011-12-23T10:25:00.003-06:00

“There are so many wars that just can’t be won
Even before the battle’s begun.”
Wilco

Most of our troops deployed in Iraq have concluded their long way home for Christmas. Bombs exploded throughout Baghdad yesterday, killing scores. The Shiite Iraqi government wanted us out (thankfully), so they’ll have to deal with disgruntled Sunnis without our help. The next domino in the Mideast cauldron appears to be Syria, whose president, Bashar-al-Assad, is responsible for the deaths of hundreds, if not thousands, of protestors. If a Republican wins in 2012, chances are we’ll be pulled into another war, perhaps with Iran. Admiral William H. McRaven, the SEAL team commander who organized the raid that took out Osama bin Laden and a runner-up as Time magazine person of the Year, praised Barack Obama as a steady, brave, knowledgeable commander in chief. I shudder to think what might happen if someone like Gingrich replaces him.

Because I work in IUN’s library as CRA co-director, I got invited (first time) to their holiday lunch. A highlight was chatting with Lois, former director Bob Moran’s secretary whom I hadn’t seen in years, and Jackie Cheairs, whose brother-in-law just returned from Iraq, hopefully for good, after multiple deployments. Because the vice chancellor wanted the library open even though the semester is over, Tim Sutherland ordered food from Strack and Van Til’s. The chicken and ham were good and the ribs tough, and the mashed potatoes a pleasant surprise. I ate so much I skipped my normal yogurt before bowling. At Cressmoor Lanes my Engineers won five of seven and would have swept the Dingbats had Bobby McCann not doubled in the tenth of the third game.

Upon arriving home, I was greeted by Phil and Diamond, out for his final pee of the evening. When the others retired for bed, I watched Letterman, who had John Huntsman on (he’d make a great Obama cabinet member). Dave worked two viral YouTube excerpts into his monologue, one of monkeys riding dogs and the other of a FedEx employee tossing a package containing a TV over a fence.

Thursday my nuclear family (Toni, Phil, Dave, and I) spent the day together. It was great. Normally Dave does not like music on while playing games, but he had no objection to The Decembrists, Arcade Fire, and Wilco. After Amun Re and Acquire, we played seven pinochle games. The guys were all smiles after winning the first two, but the old folks took the next four out of five. We finished with an abbreviated Texas hold ’em match.

Vandals have desecrated the Marquette Park Pavilion, which is undergoing a multi-million dollar facelift. Not only did they steal copper pipes, they started a fire inside and smeared graffiti on the walls. Dave and Angie got married there. Poor Gary. How many black eyes can the city survive?

Yesterday I paid $2.99 a gallon filling up the Corolla. Today the price had jumped to $3.39.

The Congressional fight over extending tax cuts and unemployment benefits appears over, with Republican House members apparently caving in the face of almost universal criticism, even from Senate Republicans. Judge Louis Rosenberg decertified Indiana Secretary of State Charlie White for fraudulently stating his residence. State Rep Charlie Brown, meanwhile, is stepping up his drive to ban smoking in public places in time for the Superbowl, taking place in Indy in six weeks.

Driving to the library on its last day open until January 3, 2012, I heard Supertramp’s “Take the Long Way Home,” which contains these lines: “When the day comes to settle down, who’s to blame if you’re not around?” I worked on the Maggie Comer chapter of “On Their Shoulders.” Like Marie Arredondo, she sacrificed so that her children might have an opportunity to fully develop their talents.

At Gaard Logan’s suggestion I Googled artist Bo Bartlett, who gave to the Tacoma Art Museum a painting entitled “Brooklyn Crucifixion.” A comely woman in a pink bathrobe is hanging by ropes that have caused her wrists to bleed. Flanking her are an artist and a bearded man who resembles Chain Potok whose novel about rebellious Hasidic Jew, “My Name Is Asher Lev,” inspired Bartlett. Gaard’s book club is currently reading the novel, which I had never heard of. Here’s a quote from Asher’s teacher: “As an artist you are responsible to no one and nothing, except to yourself and the truth as you see it. Do you understand? An artist is responsible to his art. Anything else is propaganda.”

On Facebook Pat Zollo mentioned getting together with Tom Curry, and we exchanged messages about Paul Curry, whose C130 was shot down in Vietnam. It caused me to shed a tear thinking about finding Paul Curry’s name on The Wall in Washington. It took a little time because I hadn’t realized Paul was his middle name. Terry Jenkins, whom I’m still close to, was probably Paul’s best friend and a pallbearer, I believe, at the funeral. When we were kids, the three of us were out with our sleds trying to catch rides on the back fenders of cars that stopped at a Summit Avenue intersection near Kirk’s Store. A police car came by, and Paul muttered, “Dirty copper.” The car screeched to a halt and the officer said, “What did you say?” Without batting an eye Paul replied, “Dirty rubber.” It made no sense, but the policeman said something like, “Well, watch what you say” and drove off. From then on saying “Dirty rubber” is an inside joke with us that evokes memories of Paul.

The Concept

2011-12-19T10:07:00.005-06:00

“She wears denim wherever she goes
Says she’s gonna get some records by the Status Quo.”
“The Concept,” Teenage Fanclub

On the sleazy reality show “Jersey Shore,” a hit with many young adults, there’s a character that calls himself The Situation. With that precedent I should call myself The Concept.

Friday an apparently homeless man was sitting outside the IUN library wrapped in two blankets. A half hour later, the blankets remained but he was gone. In contrast to cities like Chicago and Boston, you rarely see such scenes locally. About a year ago a beggar came into the cafeteria, but a campus cop quickly whisked him out. Former Chancellor Peggy Elliott told me this anecdote from the early 1980s: “One night I got a call from security around two a.m. An officer making his rounds had discovered two young children in the shadows near the fountain. They had been abandoned. The boy remembered he had been to a friendly place and somehow found his way, with his little sister, to the campus. A desperate child saw our campus as a refuge. Our investment in beauty and security brought us returns in ways we never could have imagined.” Could the man wrapped in blankets have been the same person 30 years later?

Fred McColly stopped by my “cage” after checking on his Native American garden. He needs a ground cover of four inches of snow to insure the survival of his winter wheat seeds. Daughter Sarah, one of my best former students and on the cover of my Nineties issue, is about to give birth.

I ate free courtesy of IUN for the third time in as many days: fried chicken and the trimmings, including Cole slaw and scallions with just the right texture and bite, at the Arts and Sciences Holiday party. Dean Hoyert gave a witty poetry recitation that began, “Twas the week of the finals,” a take-off on the 1823 Clement C. Moore poem “Account of a Visit from St. Nicholas” better known as “Twas the Night Before Christmas.” He devoted a stanza to excuses used by students petitioning for an incomplete: “My brother’s in jail and I have the flu, I had to work and grandma died too,” followed by the dean’s advice to “fail the transgressors” and “ignore the complaints, the whines, the begging.” He ends on this note:

“While most of our students are the best of our youth
There are some that can drive you to gin and vermouth!
In the end, teaching’s a calling, it’s honored, it’s right
Happy end of the semester and to all a good night.”

I sat with historian Chris Young, Vice Chancellor David Malik, and Fine Arts faculty Jennifer Greenburg, who has produced a unique photography book called “The Rockabillies.” At first glance the representations appear to be from the postwar period, but they depict modern day emulators of Fifties styles, from the pompadour haircuts and slicked back hair to the sounds of Buddy Holly and Carl Perkins. Prominent are tattoos, classic cars, period furniture, radios, comics and albums and, most striking, clothes styles harkening back to my high school days, including white bucks and saddle shoes. Curator Karen Irvine wrote: “By making photographs worthy of a glossy fashion magazine, Greenburg places the rockabilly’s nostalgia in a contemporary context, revealing a tension between the traditionalism and rebelliousness of their subculture.” Jennifer mentioned that a recent trend in museums is deleting explanations about the work. In an experiment for an Aesthetics class at Bucknell I showed a painting to different groups, telling some the piece was untitled, as was the case, and then making up titles. Except for art majors, most preferred a title.

Suzanna Murphy sent me a self-published book entitled “Stories from the Old Stone House” about her “grama,” who lived to be well over 100. She rode a horse, Old Sam, to her one-room schoolhouse. Old Sam returned to his stable on his own after dropping her off.

Charlize Theron in “Young Adult” plays Mavis Gary, a self-absorbed writer of books designed for teenagers who returns to her “hick” hometown hoping to lure old boyfriend Buddy Slade into leaving his wife and young baby. Diablo Cody, responsible for “Juno,” wrote the excellent screenplay and, so far as I know, coined the word “Ken-taco-hut.” Mavis hangs out in such places in order to pick up the latest “young adult” dialogue. On the drive from Minneapolis Mavis puts on a Teenage Fanclub tape, including her and Buddy’s song “The Concept,” which makes reference to the English “boogie band” Status Quo, whose number one UK hit in 1975 was “Down, Down.” At a bar Buddy’s wife sings “The Concept” with her band Nipple Confusion, sending Mavis into a jealous fit. After her inevitable comeuppance she goes back to Mini-Apple (as local wannabes still call the Twin city) sadder but wiser.

Saturday at Miller Pizza Joe Petras hosted the annual Men and Boys Holiday Benefit Brunch. Proceeds help maintain the Marquette Park playground. I sat with Tom Eaton, Ted Prettyman, and the Spicer brothers. Years ago, Prettyman ran for Miller Beach precinct committeeman against Dick Hagelberg and Mike Chirich and lost to Chirich by a single vote. Mike has remained in the post ever since. Purdue fan Jack Tonk and IU booster Matt Diltz were razzing each other, and George Rogge talked about getting all groups interested in the future of Miller Beach together. I invited Melvin Nelson, thinking Joe’s brother-in-law Jim Walton, on our bowling team years ago, would be there, but he was in Kentucky due to a family emergency. Joe announced that total donations in 21 years reached $5,000.

In an all-Indiana doubleheader Purdue lost to Butler on a last-second tip-in, while IU defeated Notre Dame in a grinder. Evening at the Hagelbergs featured southwestern chicken and two rounds of bridge.

Sunday I went two for four gaming, winning Acquire and Viking, then watched Seattle slaughter the Bears in another abysmal performance by their backup quarterback Caleb Hanie. If only they had Kyle Orton, cut from Denver earlier in the year, who led Kansas City to a win over previously unbeaten Green Bay. Dave and Angie teased me about going to Hawaii without them. I called Seattle Joe while listening to an Accept CD he had given me and talked about the awesome time ahead on the Big Island.

Monday I picked up macadamia nuts at Albanese in Merrillville and stopped at the Lake County Library. I gobbled up a rare copy of my Sports Shavings issue that was on sale for a quarter. A label on the inside of the front cover identified James Mulloy as the former owner.

Lunched at Gino’s with lawyer Tim Sendak, whose dad was Indiana attorney general for eight years. He provided me with great anecdotes about grandparents Jack and Annette, whom I will be writing about in “On Their Shoulders.” Annette was evidently a pool shark in London who paid for her fare to America from her winnings. When Jack wouldn’t buy her a car, she started a fur company and bought a Buick once she saved enough money of her own. At their summer place on the St. Joseph River, Tim recalled, Annette had a massive clock collection set at different times so that one chimed every few minutes. Apparently she didn’t like a quiet house. I ordered a delicious steak and portabella sandwich, half of which I took home.

Grandkids were in a school Christmas program. James played the xylophone and drums, and Rebecca sang with her fourth grade class. It was a mob scene getting in and out but fun seeing the kids shine.

Steelers-49ers contest in San Francisco was delayed due to a power outage (reminiscent of the 1989 earthquake during a Cubs-Giants playoff game), so I put on a Decembrists CD.

Time’s Person of the Year is The Protestor, a fine choice given Arab Spring and Occupy Wall Street. Among its year-old RIP tributes are essays about actor Peter Falk (I loved “Columbo”) and “60 Minutes” commentator Andy Rooney, who was on the show 31 years, starting when he was 61. Like Walter Cronkite, he had been an ace World War II correspondent. His longevity reminded me of newsman Tom Cannon, who came to Gary in his 60s and commenced a new 30-year career highlighted by his “Flue Dust” column.

Republican officeholders, realizing that Newt would be a disastrous party standard bearer, are flocking to Mitt, who helped Letterman do the Top Ten list of things he’d like to say to the American people (number 9 was, “What’s up gangstas, it’s the M-i-double tizzle”). Newt’s 1994 Contract with America got him elected Speaker of the House, but his downfall was causing a government shutdown and impeaching Clinton for receiving a blow job when he was guilty of much greater moral lapses. Number 2 on Mitt’s list was, “Newt Gingrich, really?”

Holiday Spirit

2011-12-15T10:57:00.002-06:00

"Yeah I'm sorry, I can't afford a Ferrari, 
But that don't mean I can't get you there. 
I guess he's an Xbox and I'm more Atari, 
But the way you play your game ain't fair.”
Cee-Lo Green

Tuesday I had lunch with cafeteria regular Alan Lindmark, about to retire but pledging to return occasionally. I got into a discussion with Jean Poulard, who admitted using a test question asking students to explain why JFK’s foreign policy was a fiasco. I argued that if Kennedy had taken the actions Poulard advocated in Cuba, Berlin, and Vietnam, it could easily have led to a nuclear war. Comparing him to Reagan, I concluded that while Kennedy used combative rhetoric at times due to political realities, his main accomplishment was to prevent the Cold War from escalating into war between the superpowers. In fact, after the 1962 missile crisis he took steps to move haltingly toward détente with Nikita Khrushchev.

A Ray Smock essay on the History Hews Network website entitled “Newt Gingrich the Galactic Historian” mentioned Newt’s fascination with Isaac Asimov’s “Foundation” trilogy and suggests that protagonist and psycho-historian Hari Seldon is his role model. The articles generated many responses, including this one that Ray particularly liked: “This article settles it, there is N.O.T.H.I.N.G. conservative about Newt Gingrich, he is just a power hungry totalitarian unprincipled fruitcake who will make life hell if elected just as sure as any 20th century communist or fascist dictator would.” I emailed Ray: “Thanks to you, I have spent hours on the HNN website, including perusing the considerable reaction to your piece. Michael Lowry said it well, calling Newt a pandering hypocrite who nonetheless has two useful political skills, the inability to feel shame and the ability to speak confidently even while uttering obvious falsehoods.”

I sent Vice Chancellor David Malik a proposal to fund Steel Shavings in return for my contributions to the Calumet Regional Archives. I wrote: “Since our conversation on making Steel Shavings magazine self-sustaining, I have been mulling over various options. The best course, I believe, would be to set up a fund within the Steel Shavings account to cover publications, travel, research, and special events. The cost, $11,000 (a sum equal to a single Summer Faculty Fellowship), would not only cover publication costs of future magazine issues (that’s where the lion’s share of the money would go) but allow for other activities associated with the Archives, including new outreach initiatives. In return for obtaining the funding, I would continue to serve as unpaid co-director of the Calumet Regional Archives, assisting researchers, collecting “treasures” (as Steve McShane refers to acquisitions), planning special events (such as bringing speakers to campus who have published books about the history of Northwest Indiana), and doing other useful tasks as befits my expertise as a regional historian. Since Steve McShane is the Steel Shavings account manager (21-601-72), he would oversee the expenditures, as could others in the chain of command, including the librarian and the campus chief financial officer. Even though I will be eligible next year to earn money for my services to the university, I believe this to be a better course than my requesting compensation for activities in connection with the magazine and the Archives. One way to proceed would be to allocate a one-time funding that would allow publication of volume 42 in the Steel Shavings series and then assess whether to include the item in future annual budgets. In addition, by not allocating the funds to me personally, the way is open for a successor to eventually become the editor of the magazine.”

Wearing to IUN’s Holiday Party an IUN polo shirt from when I worked the Porter County fair, I splashed much gravy on my turkey, mashed potatoes, and filling, had two cups of un-spiked egg nog, and chatted with retired professors Leroy Peterson and Mike Certa, among others. A deejay was blasted music at a volume that made conversation difficult, but I liked the selections and folks were line dancing. Immediately following “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” came Cee-Lo Green’s “Forget You.” I listened closely when it came on to see whether it was the x-rated version. JoAnn Hurak, who used to work for Purchasing, hadn’t heard that they phased out her office in favor of a centralized, all campus system. Her granddaughter used to live across from us at Maple Place, and both dogs that used to bark all night when she wasn’t home have since died. She mentioned getting a phone call from her old boss Murray Taylor from a nursing home but he hung up before she could get his address or phone number.

DeeDee Ige and Vernon Smith want me to be on a committee to study how to enhance IUN’s image within the Gary community. I’m happy to oblige. There was a time years ago when the administration sought to downplay being in Gary, but that hasn’t been the case for some time. Maybe I can push having an event honoring Thelma Marshall and bringing in Gregg Andrews, the author of the Thyra J. Edwards book.

Watched my teammates win game one in bowling and then at home put on the end of the Maryland basketball game. They beat Florida International, coached by former IU star Isaiah Thomas. Then I switched to the Blackhawks, who won an overtime shootout with Minnesota thanks to their young duo of Toews and Kane.

On Facebook Sam Barnett wrote: “The paper of this student who always reeks of cigarettes reeks of cigarettes. This one is staying at work tonight. My clothes reek so much after bowling that I keep my jacket in the garage and immediately strip down and throw my clothes in the laundry room.

Niece Andrea has invited me to come to the Big Island of Hawaii for a week in early January while she, her husband, and son Joe are there. Tom Dietz is going with me. It should be great.

Among those honored at the Retirement Reception were Alan Lindmark in Chemistry, Ken Schoon in Education, and two longtime staff members and really good people whose positions were phased out, Jan Taylor in Printing Services and Marianne Malyj in Purchasing. Also Donald Young, one of my top ten favorite students is stepping down as a police officer. When I interviewed him for the History of IUN Shavings issue, he praised General Stusies director Bob Lovely, Communication professor DeeDee Ige, and Chief Andy Lazar for their faith in him. He had funny stories about being hazed by veteran officers and interrupting lovers at the outer edges of the parking lots. He was also the first bicycle patrol officer and a really nice fellow. I had intended to say a few remarks about Don, but the program was set up basically to have only one person per retiree speak (although jean Poulard, as usual, got up and went on about how he and Lindmark are best friends despite their political differences). The police lieutenant who talked about Don started with what he said was an Elizabeth Taylor quote to her husband: “I won’t keep you long.” I told Marianne afterwards that I still recall fondly her singing “Taking Care of Business” at pro-Business Division Chancellor Dan Orescanin’s retirement roast.

John Davies presided over the annual Legends induction at the Welcome Center that honored four Medal of Honor recipients, four Nobel Prize winners, and the Jacksons. On the program to explain the selection process and then to describe why the Jackson Five were worthy of being inducted, Steve McShane introduced me as the area’s preeminent historian. Nice. On hand was the widow of Emilio De La Garza, who died in Vietnam and the brother of another Medal of Honor winner Danny Bruce. IUN Business professor Steve Dunphy did a good job talking about the four Nobel Prize winners, including biochemist Ferid Murad, born in Whiting, whose work with nitric oxide led to the marketing of Viagra. Thanks to Harry Vande Velde, of the Legacy Foundation, an excellent book about the all the Legends on the Wall has been produced for fourth graders. I took home two of them for the grandkids to take to their school.

Buzzer Beater

2011-12-12T11:57:00.005-06:00

“We will fight for the cream and crimson
For the glory of old IU.”
“Indiana, Our Indiana”

The Education Division hd a retirement reception for Ken Schoon last Friday. Stanley Wigle and Paul Blohm got off some witticisms at his expense. When Mark Reshkin’s turn came, he quipped that he hadn’t realized the program was to be a roast. Ken was one of Mark’s first associate professors in the Geology department and taught in the East Chicago public school system for years before taking a full-time position at IUN. Elaine Morrow mentioned Ken’s loving relationship with wife Peg. In fact, he often comes to the Archives when Peg is working there to have lunch with her. The author of “Calumet Beginnings,” he has a new book called “City Trees” and is working on one about the Indiana Dunes National Lakeshore. On hand were Save the Dunes bigwigs Herb and Charlotte Read. Last Thursday the National Register of Historic Places listed their house, scheduled for demolition and vacant since September 2010, as “historically significant for its association with the efforts of citizen conservation groups to preserve the Indiana Dunes and create the Indiana Dunes National Lakeshore.” It remains to be seen whether the Lakeshore Superintendent Constantine Dillon will agree to save it and put it to use.

Saturday grandkids James and Rebecca performed with the Southlake Children’s Choir in a holiday presentation at Bethel Church in Merrillville. The group sang songs in several languages, and even the youngest kids appeared to know all the words.

IU’s basketball team upset the number one ranked Kentucky Wildcats 73-72 on a last-second three-pointer by Christian Watford. Kentucky had made easy layups the last few times down the court, so the Hoosiers were fortunate no time was left of the clock. The team has been bad for the past five years, and fans mobbed the players after the buzzer went off. Loudmouth announcer Dick Vitale kept saying Assembly Hall should be renamed in honor of Bobby Knight, whom he refers to as “The General” or Robert Montgomery Knight. Let’s hope not. As good of a coach as Knight was at one time, he was a pretty despicable human being. Vitale’s sidekick mentioned that those at the game will remember the scene the rest of their lives – probably not an exaggeration. Phil still recalls the campus celebrations his freshman year after IU won the 1987 NCAA tournament.

Saturday evening Nancy and Ron Cohen stopped over on the way to Fred and Tracy Traut’s annual holiday party. I had a very good time talking to the regulars and meeting some new interesting people – plus the food was delicious. Formerly in the Women’s Studies program, Tracy is planning to return to IUN for a master’s degree in psychology.

I won two of three games and should have triumphed in Acquire but Dave beat me by buying up more of the Imperial stocks. Tom Wade and I talked about the IU game on the way over to Dave’s, as well as the Romney’s latest Republican debate gaffe. He offered to make a $10,000 bet with Perry that his book “No Apology” didn’t contain an endorsement of universal health care. Critics are saying that the remark shows Romney is out of touch with common people. Republican strategist Mary Matalin called it “one more heavy brick in Romney’s backpack.” The main two things Romney had going for him was so-called electability and being a good debater, but Newt Gingrich appears to have stolen his thunder on both counts.

In Irving Berlin’s “White Christmas,” based on the 1954 movie of that name, the actor playing former private Bob Wallace at Valpo’s Memorial Opera House sounded quite a bit like Bing Crosby. One of the dancers had a daffy blond wig that others made fun of but that I thought quite sexy, given her sleek body and comely face. All nine performances were sold out, and the costumes, designed by Tracy Traut’s mother Martha Sass, were very elaborate. After the show six of us had dinner at a place on Lincolnway called 157 (its address), followed by coffee, tea, and goodies baked by Nancy back at our place. The Hagelbergs filled us in on the previous evening’s sing-a-long at Lake Street Gallery (sorry I missed Joyce’s chili). Today we missed Tanice Foltz’s cookie party. Tis the season of mucho social activities.

Learned that Bears lost 13-10 to the Broncos on two costly mistakes by running back Marion Barber. Glad I wasn’t watching the latest “Tim Tebow miracle.” As Jonathyne Briggs quipped, Jesus must hate Marion Barber, who went out of bounds, giving Denver enough time to tie the score, and who then fumbled when Chicago was in field goal range.

Not surprisingly, the season finale of “Boardwalk Empire” was bloody, with Nucky offing Jimmy and marrying Margaret Schroeder to avoid being convicted of murdering her abusive husband. At the end he is expecting to become rich from property holdings as a result of getting authorization of a highway to Atlantic City. When Nucky thought he was in legal trouble he deeded the property over to Margaret, who, in the final scene, donates it to the Catholic Church. After her daughter contracted polio, she saw it as a sign of God’s punishment for her sins and fell under the sway of sinister Father Brennan.

Terry Jenkins passed along a joke about two old friends at a bar. One pointed to a couple geezers across from them and said, “That’s us in ten years.” His buddy replied, “That’s a mirror, you dip-shit.” When we used to take Alissa places, I’d often point to an aged codger and say, “Who do you think is older, him or me?” Now the answer is likely to be me.

With my successful picks of Philadelphia, Denver, and Houston, I finished third in the weekly football pool, a point out of the money and three points behind three-time winner Kevin Horn. I’d have won had I selected the Giants over Dallas (my first inclination) or gone with my gut and had Arizona beating San Francisco.

Making Ammo

2011-12-08T13:35:00.004-06:00

“I turn the music up, I got my records on
I shut the world outside until the lights come on.”
Coldplay, “Every Teardrop is a Waterfall”

The Indiana Magazine of History asked me to assess an article about discrimination against African American women from Gary who applied to work at the Kingsbury Ordnance plant in La Porte County during World War II. With revisions, it should be a first-rate piece. Making ammo was dangerous work, but the pay made it attractive to women whose opportunities heretofore had been very limited.

I picked up three packages of Opatki wafers at Nativity catholic church in Portage for Christmas Eve dinner. Toni sends one to her sister in Florida who can’t find them in Punta Gorda. At Best Buy for Christmas presents I purchased CDs by Wilco, Destroyed, Pink Floyd and Coldplay – two Chicago bands and two British groups.

Newt Gingrich appears to be bent on self-destruction to judge by some of the idiocies coming out of his mouth. I guess the man can’t help himself. His ad claiming he’s the one to unify America reminds me of Nixon drivel 40 years ago. Romney ads stress that he’s a one-woman guy, leaving unsaid that Newt is on his third wife. Newt seems to think the normal rules of the political game do not apply to him.

The Post-Trib’s front page Pearl Harbor story yesterday was of vets’ ashes being returned to the sunken battleships Arizona and Utah. Not many guys left; the ranks get thinner with each passing year. The anniversary of the death of John Lennon gets more airtime as memories of WW II fade.

I spent lots of time examining Gary city directories tracing Joseph Stiglitz and Paul Samuelson’s parents. According to sisters-in-law Judy and Anita, Ella, Samuelson’s mom, opened a restaurant called The Barbeque. It turned out to be in Chicago. Earlier she tried to make a go of a style shop in Gary’s immigrant ward, but it failed for lack of customers. Ella’s husband Frank was a druggist and a dreamer. The historian Robert Sobel wrote that he “was a moderate socialist and a middle class businessman, which was not a contradiction in that period.”

TRACES magazine sent me a copy of my Carlton Hatcher article to proofread. It will appear in the next issue. I couldn’t find my favorite paragraph, which I added after first submitting the piece, about Carlton helping a family of ten move from Iowa to Michigan City in 1926 in an old Hudson. With bags and boxes tied to the roof and fenders, two flat tires, several wrong turns, and numerous pit stops, the return trip took 24 hours. Hopefully there will be room for it.

Led by John Bulot, my bowling team won all 7 points against The Big Hurt. The rest of us had one good game each. Fortunately our opponents left a ton on ten-pins and, in the case of their two lefties, seven-pins. So it was more a case of their under-performing than we putting a big hurt on them. John pointed out an announcement on the bulletin board that Lisa Anserelli has the women’s high series for the year. “Jim Fowble was her teacher,” he said, referring to the owner of Cressmoor Lanes. Years ago, my league bowled on eight lanes and some of the best women in the Region on the other eight. I used to observe Lisa, who had beautiful form. Next to us a guy in a Cozumel shirt was saying “Way to go, Jimmy” whenever a teammate got a strike. After his strikes, Jimmy would do a little dance similar to someone shadow boxing.

Judge James Zagel sentenced former Illinois governor Rod Blagojevich to 14 years in the slammer. The only egregious thing he was guilty of was being arrogant and full of hot air. The “crimes” were picayune compared to Dick Cheney, who profited from his clout to the tune of tens of millions. Letterman had some fun at his expense, saying his hair stylist should have gotten the death sentence and that Michael Jackson’s doctor-murderer got ten fewer years. Echoing the defense of slimeball accused child molester Jerry Sandusky, David claimed that in his plea to the judge, Rod said he really was not trying to get money for Obama’s vacated Senate seat, he was just horsing around. His Top Ten list of messages left on Blago’s phone included a future cellmate asking whether he preferred top or bottom and the warden wondering, “How much for your seat?” The implication was that pretty boy Blagojevich was in for unwanted some same sex experiences.

Went to the Northwest Indiana Symphony Orchestra’s seventieth anniversary holiday celebration with Cheryl Hagelberg, whose husband Dick was in the chorus. In past years the late Communication professor Jim Tolhuizen was in the chorus as well. The orchestra is a successor to the Gary Civic Orchestra, which gave its debut concert hours after the attack on Pearl Harbor, prompting conductor Arnold Zack to open with the “Star-Spangled Banner.” Perhaps for that reason current conductor and musical director Kirk Muspratt had “Battle Hymn of the Republic” on the program. The best number was an African song from the Congo that involved orchestra members stomping their feet and clapping. For one number youngsters from Protsman Elementary School in Dyer were featured in a number and were excellent. They got a standing ovation from folks who in all likelihood were their parents and relatives. We were in the fifth row in the mezzanine. Behind us were two kids. The girl was well behaved, but the boy was protesting loudly at his confinement. Out he went with a parent shortly into the show. After intermission they tried again with him but had to take him out minutes later.

On Gaard Murphy Logan’s recommendation I started a book, “Three Men in a Boat (to say nothing of the dog),” written by an Englishman, Jerome K. Jerome over 120 years ago. It made her laugh out loud, she said, and I can see why. It’s quite charming and clever, and the quaint language (i.e., turning leaves, meaning pages) enhances rather than detracts from the enjoyment. The narrator mentions coming across an ad for liver pills that will cure everything from ague to zymosis and after reading the symptoms of each, imagined he had every ailment except housemaid’s knee.

Wedding

2011-12-05T10:56:00.003-06:00

“You may say I’m a dreamer,
But I’m not the only one.”
John Lennon

I have been corresponding with economist Paul Samuelson’s sister-in-law about his parents as well as an intern at Duke University’s manuscript library, where his papers are. Frank, his father, moved to Gary in 1911 when the owner of Economical Drug Store wanted to go to medical school in Chicago. So they traded positions. Dr. Antonio Giorgi, whom I wrote about in “Gary’s First Hundred years,” had an office above the pharmacy, became good friends with him, and sent patients downstairs to have their prescriptions filled. In 1915 he delivered Paul, Frank and Ella’s second son, in his office and expressed the wish that he be named Antonio. The parents settled on the name of Giorgi’s son Paul and chose Anthony as the middle name in honor of the physician. Later when he obtained his birth certificate, Samuelson discovered that Giorgi had put down Antonio, not Anthony, as his middle name. The pharmacy flourished during the war years but encountered financial difficulties during the early 1920s. In 1923 there were more than two dozen drugstores in Gary, including several within eyesight of the Economical Drug Store

I saw “J. Edgar” starring Matt Damon as the racist FBI director (in FDR’s opinion, one of the two most dangerous people in the county during the 1930s and beyond, along with General Douglas MacArthur. Some of the scenes seemed contrived and inaccurate, in particular a depiction of the so-called 1919 Centralia Massacre that took place on Armistice Day. Wesley Everest fired on WW I vets only after they took a detour from and parade route and attacked Wobbly headquarters, while the film portrayed Wobbly “terrorists” shooting the vets as they were marching along the parade route. Everest was seized from jail and lynched, but Hoover never was concerned about radicals or blacks being lynched. In the film Hoover learns about JFK’s death while listening to a tape of Martin Luther King having sex in a motel room and supposedly informs brother Bobby about it in a single sentence and then hangs up on him. Concerning Hoover’s alleged homosexual relationship, in the movie second-in-command Clyde Tolson attacks J. Edgar when the latter says he’s thinking about getting married and then gives him a kiss on his bloody mouth. Judi Dench gives a chilling performance as Hoover’s controlling mother, and director Clint Eastwood is judicious in not turning Hoover into a mere caricature. Rather than a moral paragon, as Hoover sought to be remembered, he was a megalomaniac totally bent on advancing his power and image. Two things would seem contrived if not for the fact that they were true – Hoover never forgiving Melvin Purvis for catching bank robber John Dillinger and his loving the horse races because the track owners didn’t make him pay if he lost.

Knowing I am a Redskin fan, Ron Cohen gave me a “NY Review of Books” article on Thomas G. Smith’s “Showdown: JFK and the Integration of the Washington Redskins.” Owner George Marshall, who moved the team from Boston in 1937, was a notorious racist who had one part-Indian coach dress up in war paint and feathers for home games and commissioned a fight song that contained the line, “Scalp ’um, swamp ’um, we will take ’um big score.” JFK’s Interior Secretary Stewart Udall forced Marshall to integrate his team as a condition of using a new stadium built on federal land.

Herman Cain finally bowed out of the Presidential race by using a quote taken from a Donna Summers song, “The Power of One,” used in the 2000 “Pokemon” movie, to wit: “"Life can be a challenge, life can seem impossible, it's never easy when there is so much on the line. But you and I can make a difference.” Writing “No wonder he said he was a leader not a reader,” Ray Smock compared the statement to Newt Gingrich’s admiration for the Power Rangers, adding: “I don’t give a hoot about his affairs with women as long as they were consensual. The man was dumb as a post. The fact that people thought him inspiring and even smart makes me fear for the nation’s sanity. Thank God Pokémon, Power Rangers, computer games, or even movies were not around when Abe Lincoln was learning by candlelight.”

I traveled to Elkhart Saturday for former student Shannon Pontney’s wedding. The invitation had Jimi Hendricks on the cover and included musings by John Lennon. My first and best supplemental instructor and a big Voodoo Chili fan, she looked dazzling. The unique ceremony featured second district Congressman Joe Donnelly marrying her and Hodge (who works for him). They wrote their vows themselves and did a great first dance routine. Shannon used to work in Admissions, and several IUN personnel were at our table, as well as two artists, including Julian Alcantar, a talented “abstract evolutionist” who showed me some of his work on his IPhone. Most tables were named for rock stars like David Bowie and Steve Winwood, but ours was the Frida Kahlo table, named for the brilliant Mexican artist Frida Kahlo, a bisexual communist who was married to muralist Diego Rivera. The head table was named for Shannon’s dad Rich, who died a few months ago after a fall at work. I talked to Congressman Donnelly about his intention to run for the Senate in 2012 against either Senator Richard Lugar or his wingnut Tea Party challenger Richard Mourdock. He is friends with Sheriff Dominguez and was pleased to hear about his autobiography “Valor.”

Tom Wade won a trio of board games Sunday before I triumphed in Dominion, using a simple but remarkably effective strategy. Bears totally sucked in succumbing to the lowly Chiefs, 10-3, surrendering a Hail Mary TD on the final play of the first half. The game was utterly without any redeeming merit, as disgusting as poorly made porn.

A woman called to ask if I could tell her the name of a life insurance company on the northeast corner of Fifth and Broadway during the Fifties. Using a Gary City Directory I found the names of three on the second floor of the Marshall House Building at 21 East Fifth: American States Insurance, Bankers Life and Casualty, and the Thomas C Stimple Agency. She’s looking to locate a missing policy, and I wished her luck.

Luncheon

2011-12-01T11:07:00.002-06:00

“So-so’s how I’m doing if you’re wondering
I’m in a fight with the world but I’m winning.”
Avril Lavigne

At Wednesday’s emeritus faculty luncheon Chancellor Lowe mentioned that he’s been reading my blog entries in the latest Shavings magazine “Calumet Region Connections” and was impressed with my knowledge of rock music. Volume 41 is in part a chronicle of IU Northwest during his first year at the helm, and he is listed in the index 14 times. Becoming very polished with ceremonial duties, he seems interested in supporting student activities and expanding the number of faculty. In attendance were three retirees who attended IUN as students – Angie Komenich, Mike Certa, and John Ban. Former acting chancellor Lloyd Rowe, who got smoking banned on campus and approved 9 new Arts and Sciences positions during his brief tenure, was on hand. When I first spotted him, I thought for a moment it was my old colleague Paul kern. All told the 15 guests probably represented over 400 years of teaching experience. Fred Chary invited me to watch the Flyers-Rangers outdoor hockey game on January 2 at his house. Had chicken, mashed potatoes, string beans, something resembling ravioli, and salad. During the Q and A Ron Cohen asked his annual question about residential housing, Mary Russell inquired again about pedestrian safety crossing Broadway, and Jack Gruenenfelder wondered about the fate of Tamarack, condemned after the 2008 flood. It’s scheduled to be torn down in a couple months. We’ll see.

I had hoped that Bob Lovely would attend the luncheon and if asked what I’ve been doing lately (a question often posed by the host), was prepared to mention the Roy Dominguez autobiography “Valor” and how important IU Northwest was to his intellectual growth (and happiness – he met wife Betty on campus). Roy is still very appreciative that counselor Elsa Rivera had faith in him, Chief Andy Lazar urged him to become a state trooper, and Sociology professor Lovely was especially nurturing. Roy would sometimes attend his interesting special study sessions even though he already understood the material. I was disappointed when Bob, the best teacher on campus, moved into an administrative position in Continuing Education, but I’m sure he was very supportive to adults anxious about going back to school after many years.

I’ve been transcribing my interview with State Rep Vernon Smith, an Education professor and former Gary principal. His mother’s side of the family helped start Pilgrim Missionary Baptist Church while his dad’s side was more worldly. Vernon characterized himself as having been a “momma’s boy” but said his dad, a plumber, would brag on him went he’d need something and go to the back door of one of his many watering holes.

In trying to track down info on the parents of Gary-born economist Paul Samuelson, I discovered that former presidential adviser Larry Summers was his nephew and that Samuelson’s younger brother Robert, also an economist, was also born in Gary in 1922, a year before the family moved to Chicago’s Hyde Park neighborhood. Samuelson’s background is similar to his protégé Joseph Stiglitz. The two Nobel Prize winning economists will be honored at a December 15 Wall of Legends ceremony at the Lake County Tourist Bureau Welcome Center.

Jose Villarreal inquired about my helping his family put together a book similar to “Maria’s Journey,” which his mother recently gave him. His Uncle Willie Vega is mentioned in the book, and the Vegas were very prominent in East Chicago’s Latino community. I suggested that if someone produced a manuscript, I could help with the editing and possibly suggest a publisher.

Nephew Joe told me to check out the band Demons and Wizards so I did on YouTube. Joe has good taste. I learned that the band’s name comes from a Uriah Heep album.

Indiana Magazine of History asked me to review an article about Black women workers at the Kingsbury Ordnance Plant, located in LaPorte County, during WW II. More than 20,000 people worked there. Glad to oblige. Sounds fascinating. In my “Homefront” Shavings (volume 22) Wanda Jones wrote that Esther Sanders worked there weighing powder for bullets, a very dangerous job. She wrote that Esther “wore safety shoes and a suit to protect her against powder burns.” A co-worker didn’t take her burns seriously and was under medication for them years later. Wanda continued: “While working, Esther often heard them testing bullets right outside. The mere sound would send chills down her back. In two years Esther’s salary rose to 95 cents an hour for a ten-hour day and a six-day week.”

I finally bowled a decent series – 470 – and the Engineers in a position round won two of three games even though opponent Liney Neal bowled more than a hundred pins above his average. Had I picked up just half my ten-pins, I’d have had a 500. When I started at Cressmoor Lanes, Liney was the only African American in our Gary Sheet and Tin league. Now there are about eight, all nice, friendly guys. We won the first game by two pins when their anchor Jim Fowble failed to double in the tenth despite throwing what appeared to be a perfect ball. We edged them in the third game after Melvin Nelson, struggling all night, doubled in the final frame.

Teammate John Bulat said he ate no turkey on Thanksgiving because when he was a kid, he had a pet turkey that his family slaughtered without his knowledge and served it for Thanksgiving dinner. Back home, I called bowling captain Bill Batalis about the good news and put on an Avril Lavigne CD (“The Best Damn Thing”) and the Letterman Show on mute. It was a repeat of when he made fun of Herman Cain’s campaign manager smoking and did a hilarious smoking pantomime.

Secretary of State Hillary Clinton paid a historic visit to Myanmar (formerly Burma) and is meeting with Nobel Peace laureate Aung San Suu Kyi, who until recently had been under house arrest for many years.

Thanksgiving Weekend

2011-11-28T10:01:00.004-06:00

“Stand together, yet not too near together:
For the pillars of the temple stand apart,
And the oak tree and the cypress grow
Not in each other’s shadow.”
Kahil Gibran

Wednesday Jeff Hagelberg and May May got married at the First Unitarian Universalist Church in Hobart. At the last minute I was asked to do a reading after Jeff’s Uncle Mark declined. The 12-line advice began and ended with the words “Love one another, but make not a bond of love.” In other words, give each other space. The reception was at The Patio in Merrillville, and I had delicious filet mignon, something not normally found on a wedding menu. Dick and Cheryl’s dance instructor worked with the married couple the night before, and they did great box stepping through the traditional first dance. Sitting next to George McGuan, a big Notre Dame fan, I mentioned that I’d be in South Bend over Thanksgiving and that host Fritz, was an officer with the navy ROTC program. He told me that Notre Dame might have been forced to close during WW II had not the navy instituted the ROTC program that trained 16,000 officers. That’s why Notre Dame still plays Navy in football every year, as a show of gratitude, he said.

Spent Thanksgiving at niece Lisa’s in Granger (near South Bend) with my family of 12 plus another 20 of Toni’s relatives and four dogs. My culinary contribution was cooking more than a dozen batches of potato latkes on Saturday morning from leftover mashed potatoes. Twenty-four hours later Toni cooked up ten pounds of potatoes that were quickly devoured . She boiled them for six minutes, cut them into chunks, and then fried them in oil. Got in a half-dozen games of pinochle (Sonny and I dominated) and two Texas hold-’em tournaments (winning $25 by finishing third out of 13). I sang “I Wanna Be Sedated” on a karaoke machine while Lisa’s husband Fritz played drums and Phil and Josh were on guitars. Everyone got along, and the various cousins enjoyed each other enormously.

Thanksgiving week-end group activities included kick ball and ice-skating at a Notre Dame rink. Fritz showed me some Brian Regan comedy bits on his IPad and I introduced him to Frank Caliendo doing George W. Bush and John Madden. He also put on a “South Park” commentary about the song “Tom Sawyer” that Rush used as an intro on a recent tour. Setting up his DVR for the Notre Dame-Stanford game, he mentioned that he had recorded 44 episodes of the Steve Colbert show.

Bears and Eagles were on at the same time Sunday – both lost. Afterwards I mellowed out and put on the 1992 CD “Copper Blue” by Bob Mould’s band Sugar featuring one of my favorite songs “If I Can’t Change Your Mind (Then no one will).”

Jeff Manes asked for suggestions for interviewees for his Post-Trib SALTS column and I suggested Chesterton Tribune editor David Canright, who was active in the anti-nuke Bailly Alliance and whose family has owned the daily newspaper for over a century. He thought his boss would nix giving a competitor space.

Sheriff Roy Dominguez is happy over the cover IU Press has selected for his book “Valor.” Merrillville History Book Club secretary Joy Anderson penciled me in to discuss the book next September.

For “Thank a teacher Day” Sam Barnett wrote on Facebook: “I say everyone in Gary and The Region should thank James Lane, who is truly a People's Historian. His method hugely influences my techniques, so as an imitator I am of course thankful!” How nice. I responded: “Thanks pal. I’m still sorry you weren’t my replacement when I retired.”

Vietnam vet Bruce Weigl was born in Lorain, Ohio, but could have been writing about Gary, Indiana, in his poem “Meditation at Pearl Street,” which refers to steelworkers “hunched in the predawn cold, caught in light from mill towers like search lights.” He writes of “gas flaming up blue and white from the open hearth” and slag heaps resembling “black desert by the lake.” He describes the “small company houses painted in pastels against the fly ash that came down on us like dogwood dust” and the “rough love” that bound families together despite the “chronic anger” such an injurious environment bred.

I set up an interview with State Rep Vernon Smith for tomorrow. His mother was one of the African-American students transferred to Emerson in 1927 so she could take college prep courses and then kicked out in the wake of a white student boycott of classes. Sixty years later she and others received diplomas as a belated recognition of the injustice.

I got my revenge against Clark Metz at Cressmoor Lanes, averaging 150+ for three games despite missing several easy spares while he struggled before finally finishing with a double. Last time when I paid the $12 he went out and bought a steak for dinner. Looks like hot dogs for you tonight, I told him.

Shame on the Moon

2011-11-22T13:52:00.001-06:00

“Blame it on midnight,
Shame on the moon.”
Bob Seger

I spent a long weekend in Palm Springs, California, visiting my 95 year-old mother. We went to the Art Museum to see an Andrew Wyeth exhibit. More exciting was a Pop Art exhibit that included Andy Warhol’s “Brillo Pad Dress” and a Louise Bourgeois bronze of a spider hanging on the wall. John De Andrea did a very realistic nude figure reclining on her side entitled “Joan,” and Gavin Turk deposited what looked to be six trash bags in the center of a room in the aptly titled “Pile.” There were several Lichtenstein entrees, including “Roommates” from his Nudes Series. Less impressive were a Rauschenberg steel panel “Pegasits/ROCI USA” and a minimalist set of lines by Louis Morris entitled “Numbers 2-00.” If my dad had been with us, he would have shaken his head and said, “I could do that.”

Nephew Bob drove up from San Diego. His wife and kids were planning on coming but Crosby broke out in a terrible rash in what turned out to be an allergic reaction to penicillin. Saturday evening we ate at a restaurant called Shame on the Moon, also the title of a Bob Seger song. Evidently the owner has a companion restaurant called Blame it on Midnight. Three of us ordered filet mignon, and Bob noted that mine appeared to be about twice as big as his.

At a sports bar Sunday called Yard House, where they serve beer in thin glasses a yard long, all the NFL games were on at the same time. In a special kids section were TVs screening various cartoons. Some Dallas Cowboy fans were cheering when they scored on the Redskins, so when Washington tied the score we cheered and gave each other high fives. The Skins’ kicker missed a field goal try or I would have won the weekly pool against the other dozen guys. Bob has a great sense of humor, and I love being with him. He teased me about whipping me in Fantasy Football even though he forgot to replace two players on bye weeks.

My brother recently saw my old friends Terry Jenkins and Sammy Corey and they recalled summer poker games on our front porch at 209 Fort Washington Avenue. I’d go around on my bike washing cars in the morning, and we’d play most afternoons. My dad and I also played a baseball pinball game for hours on that porch, even making out lineups and keeping statistics. Vic was very good at releasing balls just enough to have them fall into the doubles slot. Depending on the batter, I’d go for singles and home runs.

Renting a Corolla, I used a G.P.S. device for the first time and found it pretty neat. It certainly was easier than reading Map Quest directions. Programming it, I couldn’t figure out how to go back if I made a mistake, so I’d turn the engine off and start over. I also used my cell phone numerous times, unusual for me. On the plane it seemed that everyone but me had an Iphone and skillfully manipulated their thumbs to scroll back and forth. Several were using kindle devices to read books. American Airlines had no TVs in sight, but several folks were watching movies on their laptops. With a strong tail wind we made it back to O’Hare 40 minutes early. Couldn’t finish the USA Today crossword puzzle, drawing a blank on a place where headroom is a problem (doorway). Toni finished it for me in less than a minute.

John Laue was in the Archives working on a book about the Indiana Dunes national Lakeshore communities displaced by the federal government, including Edgewater, our old neighborhood.

Forwarded to Ray Smock a cartoon from Beamer Pickert showing Freud with this advice: Before you diagnose yourself with depression or low self-esteem, first make sure you are not, in fact, surrounded by assholes. I added that Republican candidate Jon Huntsman could use such counsel. He liked it and added: “It is clear that Huntsman is qualified but unelectable. Some say Newt is qualified but unelectable. I say Newt is not qualified on the prima facie obviousness that he is a colossal hypocrite and propagandist. The fact that he is a colossal hypocrite means he could get elected if all the true assholes vote.”

I talked to Steve’s class about postwar Northwest Indiana using my “Age of Anxiety” magazine. After students read excerpts of oral histories, I talked about trying to capture a balanced approach to Gary recent history in my “Centennial” history. Like with the Gary Roosevelt students last week, I talked about the “Hanging On, Bouncing Back” chapter, in particular the schools, and read a poem by former priest John Sheehan.

Caught the two-hour finale of “Dancing with the Stars.” Voted off first was the best of the trio, Ricky Lake. Then Iraq vet J.R. Martinez, badly burned when his Humvee hit a landmine, triumphed against over-rated Rob Kardashian. Lady Antebellum performed two songs, including “Dancing Away with my Heart.”

Bouncing Back

2011-11-17T12:09:00.001-06:00

Wednesday I talked to students at Roosevelt High School about Gary history and gave them copies of “Gary’s First Hundred Years.” I concentrated on the chapter dealing with 1981-1995, “Hanging On, Bouncing Back,” in particular the school days section. Several of the girls played varsity basketball, so I read a paragraph about someone who played on West Side’s team during the 1990s. SPEA professor Ellen Szarleta, the director of the Center for Urban and Regional Excellence, contacted me to do it and told me I had the students’ attention the entire time, no mean feat.

Former student Don Young brought noted artist and sculptor Murcie Poplar Lavender to the Archives. She wants me to look at a 500-page autobiography that she has completed. Thirty years ago she did an 8-foot sculpture called “The Steelworker” for a park near the mill but a truck subsequently backed into it and ruined it. Murcie and I were recipients of the Neal Marshall Award of Excellence six years ago, thanks to Don nominating us.

Historian Gregg Andrews sent me a CD of his group Dr. G and the Mudhens that is quite impressive. I especially liked “My Daddy’s Blues” (also the album title) and “The Things You Do.” I suggested the band try to be part of the Mammoth Lakes, California Bluesapalooza that my old high school classmate Flossie Worster is associated with.

My bowling slump continues although I had one good game and the Engineers won two points. Next to us were guys wearing System of a Down and Stone Temple Pilots t-shirts. I mentioned seeing Velvet Revolver (featuring three of the Pilots) at the Star Plaza. I’ll be off next week for Jeff Hagelberg’s wedding but hope to get in a practice session with Clark so I can come bouncing back.

Conjunction Junction

2011-11-14T14:13:00.003-06:00

“When you have a choice like
This or that.
And, but and or,
Get you pretty far.”
“Conjunction Junction, What’s Your Function?”

Friday Tom Higgins delivered some “treasures” to the Archives, as Steve McShane likes to put it, and I gave him the Flight 33 production CD of the Hashima/Gary documentary we were both in. He told me how I could get in touch with football coach Hank Stram’s sister Dolly Berry. I called her and set up an interview.

Rebecca and James were in a production of “High School Musical Junior.” Because their school has no adequate stage, it was at Portage High. Rebecca had one of the leads and James did a terrific Elvis number. He and the entire cast was on stage for virtually all the musical numbers. Old friends Kevin and Tina were there as was Angie’s dad John. Angie was in charge of costumes and busy backstage. The songs deal with history (albeit, western expansion sans Indians), math, social studies, and grammatical parts of speech such as nouns, verbs, and conjunctions.

After shopping and library browsing Saturday I watched part of the Penn State contest to see how the school and the TV pregame handled the molestation revelations. “Happy Valley” is anything but. Some wanted the game cancelled, but what good would that do? An HBO documentary about the 1960 U.S. Open golf championship showed clips of JFK and Bandstand regulars dancing the Twist. Old veteran Ben Hogan faltered in the face of challenges from winner Arnold Palmer and 20 year-old collegian Jack Nicklaus. On the seventeenth hole Ben hit a nine-iron onto the green only to have the backspin cause it to roll off and into the water. Having survived the Great Depression and a near-fatal car accident, Hogan was not a gracious loser. Palmer looked far more muscular than I remembered him. He was my dad’s favorite.

Lori Montalbano invited me to the opening of the new IUN Fine Arts facility on Grant Street, which coincided with the department’s fiftieth anniversary. Good food was on hand, and I talked with Janet Taylor from Printing Services, who recently retired after 49 years, and Ken and Peg Schoon. Old student William Goldsby was there with his wife Sandra, who is on the Miller Beach committee setting up the Pop Up Art Happenings. Gary and Nancy Wilk arrived just as Dean Mark Hoyert was mocking Texas governor Perry’s latest gaffe; he claimed there were three reasons for holding the event and then pretended to forget what the third one was. Sitting with the Wilks was Chesterton artist/teacher Donald Whisler, who mentioned that Paul Kern was one of his favorite teachers.

After Dave won Amun Re, St. Petersburg, and Acquire, I triumphed in Stone Age, then watched the Bears rout of Detroit at the Hagelbergs. Cheryl served pork roll, pierogis, onions and mushrooms, and a yummy salad. Corey and girlfriend Kate arrived after working on their new house near Forest Ave. Home for “Boardwalk Empire,” which had some interesting twists. Gangster Jimmy Darmody’s wife Angela, for instance, meets a free-spirited novelist on the beach and kisses her at a party where there are dancers, artists, and other bohemian types. Meanwhile Nucky pretends to go into retirement and prepares to travel to Ireland, taking gangster Arnold Rothstein’s advice that it is sometimes best to bides one’s time until the odds favor you.

Retired air force colonel and IUN student John Starzyk asked me to recommend a book about U.S. Steel for a friend who is retiring. I told him about “Steel Giants” by McShane and Wilk and sent him “Gary’s First Hundred Years.”

I spent 90 minutes interviewing Hank Stram’s 86 year-old sister Dolly at her home. Hank’s mother Nellie, who opened up a restaurant in the Brunswick neighborhood (Ma Stram’s) after her husband died. It was a hangout for Edison students and had a jukebox of swing music for jitterbug dancing. After her second husband died, Nellie would visit Hank in Kansas City and New Orleans and take care of grandkids when he and his wife were traveling. She was known for making six-layer birthday cakes and would take a large stash of pierogis with her when she visited him. She lived just a couple blocks from us in Miller during the early 1970s, and Hank frequently visited. I met Hank at a sports banquet, and he was very gracious. One time Dolly drove him to their old Brunswick neighborhood, and they stopped to get directions from a Black man who recognized him. Hank took his Superbowl ring off to let the guy see it. Dolly was hoping the man wouldn’t take off running, but all went well.

I ran into former student Don Young in the parking lot and offered him my latest Shavings, which he appears in twice. He brought octogenarian Murcie Poplar with him to the Archives. An artist and sculptor, she wants me to critique a 500-page autobiographical manuscript. I told her I’d be honored.

At Theo’s in Highland for the History book club presentation of Gordon W. Prange’s Pearl Harbor book “At Dawn We Slept.” I mentioned that the author was teaching at Maryland while I was a grad student and that he treated Governor Joseph B. Poindexter more accurately than Walter Lord did in “Day of Infamy.” There were several old-timers there who remembered hearing about Pearl Harbor. One was at Soldiers Field watching a football game between the Bears and the Chicago Cardinals. I sat next to former Millerites Bob Selund and Judge Ken Anderson. It took about 45 minutes for the waitress to get individual checks to us. I had the house salad and rolls plus two Becks for $16.81, including tax and tip.

Vietnam Vet Jay Keck sent me a fascinating book of poems by Bruce Weigl entitled “What Saves Us.” I was familiar with one of his previous books, “Songs of Napalm.” In a poem full of memories about a father living near “the slag heaps of our steel city dying upon our dying lake” who beat his kid with a belt, the last verse goes: “He is home from the foundry, younger than I am now, the black dust from the mill like a mask; and he is bending down to me in the dusk where I waited on the steps of the bar for his bus; and the cathedral he makes with his fingers opens to a silver dime he twists before me and lays down into my hands for being good he says.”

In “Why We Are Forgiven” Bruce Weigl writes: “Men still make steel in the hellish mill though thousands are laid off and dazed. They do the shopping for their working wives and dream the blast furnace rumble. Mill dust and red slag grit is blood for some people.”

Daddy's Blues

2011-11-10T14:24:00.002-06:00

“He’d drag ass home from work
Lookin’ lot older than his years
And in those eyes I could see
My Daddy’s Blues.”
Doctor G and the Mudcats

Gregg Andrews, author of the Thyra Edwards biography, sent me a typescript Thyra’s sister Thelma Marshall did of her ancestors. In turn I sent him “Gary’s First Hundred Years” and asked whether he could speak on our campus in February during Black History Month. He said he was “thoroughly enjoying” the book but would be in Texas that month touring with a “swampy blues band, Doctor G and the Mudcats.” I looked them up on Google and found two YouTube numbers they performed live, “Rockin’ Rita” and “My Daddy’s Blues.” Gregg’s the frontman. They were quite good.

My dad, Vic, was a white-collar commuter living in Fort Washington, PA and working for Penn Salt, a corporation whose offices were in Center City Philadelphia. Like “Daddy” in the Mudcats song he was a Camel smoker and died young, at age 50 but he liked one stiff whiskey drink when he got home not Falstaff beer as in the song. He liked show tunes and crooners like Nat King Cole and Bing Crosby rather than Jimmy Rogers and swamp blues, but his job could get him down – on the road much of the years and pressured by Penn Salt to conform to proper dress and manners. Even when golfing Sunday mornings, his monogrammed polo shirt and slacks matched the others on the links of Manufacturers Golf Course. He taught me poker and other card games and we made up lineups and kept statistics for a baseball pinball game that we played for hours when we weren’t in the basement playing ping pong or outside shooting hoops or playing wiffleball (one game I could beat him in). He was really disappointed when I quit law school to pursue a doctorate in History but shortly before he died suddenly of a heart attack he confided to me with a wink that maybe it would be nice to have a doctor in the house. He and Midge were planning to build a getaway cottage in the Poconoes that he hoped his grandkids (whom he never got to see) would visit.

I voted straight Democrat at Brummitt School in Chesterton even though there was only one contested town council race. Gary officially elected its first woman mayor Karen Freeman Wilson and Portage voters unfortunately defeated its first female mayor Olga Velazquez. Driving the Occupy Wall Street Movement off the front page are about sex scandals involving former Penn State assistant coach Jerry Sandusky and Republican Presidential hopeful Herman Cain.

TerryAnn Defenser in University Relations came to the Archives to get my signature on a copy of “Gary’s First Hundred Years” that she intends to give a friend named Marty. She also got Steve to inscribe “Steel Giants.”

Retired Sociology professor Barry Johnston passed away. He was about my age and quite a stud when he first showed up on campus with long hair, a Texas accent, and riding a motorcycle. I played tennis with him and poker, and he was a very tough teacher and prolific scholar. At lunch Chuck Gallmeier talked about rooming with him when they’d travel together to Sociology conferences. I interviewed him while researching a history of IUN, and this is how he described being interviewed in 1973 by administrator Herman Feldman: “I had done a master’s thesis on hippies and the drug experience. In my vita I called it a participant/observation study. Feldman wanted to know how much participation I had done. I phrased my answer carefully. I had shoulder-length hair and a beard and was committed to an alternative lifestyle. I enjoyed being an intellectual but relished living life on the boundaries. I tried to answer Herman’s question honestly without leading myself into harm’s way.”

Last evening I bowled better than usual but the Engineers lost all three games, the last one by a single point despite our clean-up man David “Duke” Caminski rolling a 269. In the tenth he struck and then left a eight pin on a perfect hit.

I interviewed State Senator Earline Rogers for my “On Their Shoulders” project. Her dad Earl Smith, was a tremendous athlete in high school at Froebel who had to quit college when his mother’s health failed. Becoming a steelworker, he worked different shifts and would often come home angry over the way Blacks were discriminated against. It was his hope that all five of his children would graduate from college, and they eventually did. Earline grew up in a Delaney Housing Project home. Her mom was a good campaigner when Earline went into politics. Earline ran for mayor in 1995 and would have beaten Scott King had not a second Black candidate Judge Charles Graddick, not divided the Black vote. She got her competitive streak from her dad and would have been a good mayor.

I had great food at Asia Day in the Savannah gym. Former vice chancellor Marilyn Vasquez was one of the servers. There was a fashion show and other entertainment. During one musical interlude Tanice Foltz came up and started dancing with me. One woman got a dozen students to help her demonstrate examples of laugh therapy. Vice Chancellor David Malik handed out candy bars to folks who correctly answered questions about various Asian countries.

Chris Young’s student Elizabeth Laduke met me at the Archives to ask about the Elbert H. Gary statue downtown and the Michael Jackson monument in front of the house where he grew up. I mentioned that Judge Gary was no friend to African-American steelworkers and that there was a movement during the 1970s to change the city’s name to DuSable. I defended Michael against charges that he never did anything for the city and speculated that there might be a statue of his likeness in the future as fans continue to gather outside the house on special occasions.

Madura's Danceland

2011-11-07T11:14:00.002-06:00

“Louie, Louie,
Me gotta go.”
Kingsmen

At the Portage Library I came across the Summer 2011 issue of TRACES, which contained an article by Patrice Madura Ward-Steinman about Madura’s Danceland. Located at the once popular area of Hammond known as Five Points, Madura’s opened in October 1929 (right before the stock market crash) and stayed in business until 1967, when a fire destroyed the building. During that time big bands eventually gave way to rock ‘n’ roll shows. Among the photos used by TRACES is one of the Kinsmen posing next to a big crown. Governor Welsh asked the Indiana Broadcasters Association to ban their 1964 hit “Louie, Louie” from being played on the radio because of rumors that the lyrics were obscene. In fact, the FBI spent 31 months trying to find out what the garbled vocals were. Some claimed “gotta go” was really “grab her down low.” The song is about a lonely sailor pining for his girl, but dirty-minded critics mistook “On the ship I dream she there; I smell the rose in her hair” for “On that chair I lay her there; I felt my boner in her hair.”

Near Madura’s was Phil Schmidt’s Restaurant (known for its frogs legs), a gambling emporium known as the Big House, and Lever Brothers Plant. We ate at Phil Schmidt’s shortly after coming to Northwest Indiana. It closed in 2007 after 97 years in business, ironically a casualty in part of an overpass from Indianapolis Boulevard to Horseshoe Casino. Ward-Steinman also put out an Arcadia Press book about Madura’s; Steve McShane helped her with photos from our Archives collection.

“Tower Heist” was unrealistic and only moderately interesting, but I found Eddie Murphy quite funny as hustler Slide and Gabourey Sidibe (who starred in “Precious”) pretty sexy for one who must weigh well over 300 pounds. Ben Stiller is always fun when playing someone under duress, but Alan Alda was not a very convincing villain.

The new “Vanity Fair” with Johnny Depp on the cover has an interesting article by Nathaniel Philbrick about Herman Melville’s “Moby-Dick.” He includes this quote by the narrator Ishmael, the only survivor from the whaling ship “Pequod” commanded by the one-legged Captain Ahab, bent on revenge against the white whale responsible for the missing appendage. “There are certain queer times and occasions in this strange mixed affair we call life when a man takes this whole universe for a vast practical joke, though the wit thereof he but dimly discerns, and more than suspects that the joke is at nobody’s expense but his own.” “Moby-Dick” only sold a few thousand copies when first published, but it is now recognized as perhaps the greatest work of American literature.

Checked out “Wonder Girl” by Don Van Natta, a biography of Babe Didrikson, the greatest American woman athlete ever. She was the track and field star of the 1932 Olympics and excelled in basketball, baseball, and golf – in fact, in every sport she took up. Coming from a poor family living in Port Arthur, Texas, she was seen as a threat to the demure image of female athletes and by the establishment that ran amateur sports and, like Jim Thorpe, barred from numerous competitions because she had to earn money in order for her family to survive during the Great Depression. Sportswriter Grantland Rice championed her, but more typical was this snipt from the New York World-Telegram’s Joe Williams that “It would be much better if she and her ilk stayed at home, got themselves prettied up and waited for the phone to ring.” She won the woman’s Grand Slam of golf in 1950 and served as President of the LPGA for three years before succumbing to colon cancer in 1956 at the age of 45. Author Van Natta points out that Babe was the first woman to find success as a professional athlete. After Gertrude Ederle swam the English Channel, New Yorkers honored her with a ticker tape parade, but no lucrative offers followed and she died in obscurity.

I finally watched the excellent HBO documentary “Sing Your Song” about calypso singer Harry Belafonte. Inspired by Paul Robeson, he combined a successful singing career with a half-century of activism on behalf of civil rights and world hunger. For his trouble the FBI under J. Edgar Hoover had him under surveillance along with Martin Luther King and other activists. He was at the 1963 March on Washington when MLK delivered his “I Have a Dream” speech. He risked his life traveling to Mississippi during Freedom Summer, 1964, and he organized celebrities to participate in the Selma to Montgomery march the following year. During the 1980s, like Gary mayor Richard Hatcher, he went to jail protesting the apartheid policies of the South African government.

We had James and Rebecca overnight while Dave and Angie chaperoned the East Chicago Central High School turnabout dance. I cooked pancakes and kielbasa for breakfast before gaming at Dave’s. I was one for four, winning Acquire. My football picks and Fantasy team fared poorly, and I fell asleep before “Boardwalk Empire” came on. Fortunately I can catch it on DVR.

Reporter Andy Grimm, who writes for the Chicago Tribune, interviewed me about Gary’s financial crisis. For several years the fear has been that the city would become insolvent and even might have to go into some kind of receivership or un-incorporate, if such a thing is possible. Now with a new state property tax in effect, it appears that other Indiana cities could be in the same boat. Andy wanted some political perspective concerning high and low points in Gary’s history. I brought up the 1930s when only federal help bailed the city out – what is drastically needed today. Another low point was 1995, when Governor Evan Bayh sent in state troopers to deal with the supposedly out-of-control crime, gangs, and drugs. Also that year Black voters were so pessimistic about the future that they helped elect white criminal attorney Scott King mayor, a man with almost no past record of civic involvement. The attitude among many was, well, we tried the Black Pride thing with Richard Hatcher and the reach-out-to-the-surrounding-communities approach with Tom Barnes, so maybe a white mayor will get attention and bring investment to the city. All the city ended up getting were an expensive stadium, a beauty pageant for a couple years, and casino boats that drained away more money than gained from tax revenues. The credit, if that is the right word, for the boats should go to the Barnes administration – their presence was one reason gaining control of City Hall had looked attractive to King.

I met Clark Metz at Cressmoor Lanes and bowled three games, another poor performance but maybe I learned a few things that I can put to use in the league Wednesday. After chicken, noodles, and corn on the cob, I watched the Bears win a close one against the Philadelphia Eagles, the league’s most disappointing team so far.

Being Gay in Israel

2011-11-03T14:40:00.002-05:00

“Is it just destiny
Or is it just a game
In my mind, Sharona?”
The Knack

At the Robin Hass Birky Women’s Studies Room in IUN’s Savannah Center I heard two people talk on the subject of “Being Gay in Israel.” They were with a group called Hoshen, which is also the name of a sacred Hebrew breastplate and a word derived from the Hebrew word for beautiful. On the group website I learned that Hoshen is the Hebrew acronym for "Education and Change" and the education center of the Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual and Transgender (GLBT) community in Israel. Israeli laws are evidently very tolerant toward gays except regarding marriage, which is governed by religious precepts and even discriminates against Jews marrying non-Jews. Someone noted that Tel Aviv is the third most popular gay party town, right behind San Francisco and Bangkok. One speaker, Irit Tzvelli, mentioned that the group works with schools and even does workshops with kindergarten teachers to be more sensitive toward kids with same-sex parents. Irit said she came out of the closet around age 24 and that her mother took it OK except that when she subsequently dated a guy, the mother was really hoping that she’d get married and have children so she wouldn’t be lonely when she got older. She subsequently bonded with another lesbian, but they have three kids via adoption and in vitro fertilization, so the old lady is OK with the situation. Several people from Temple Israel were there, including Rabbi Halpern and Robin Rich. I talked to one guy who was a History major in the early 1970s and took all of Ron Cohen’s courses.

After the talk Anne Balay, a student named Christine, and I had drinks at TGIF in Merrillville. Having recently moved from Hyde Park to Miller, Anne seemed unfamiliar with the commercial district along Route 30. Both she and Christine were teenagers during the 1980s, and we ended up talking about music and movies from that era. It seems like they were hot for some of the same women celebrities that I had found sexy, such as Joan Jett and Debra Winger. Coincidentally, one of Debra’s first movies was “Thank God It’s Friday,” the name of the restaurant we were at. I told them I loved Winger in “Reality Bites,” especially the scene in Seven/Eleven when they dance to “My Sharona.” I offered to loan Anne my “Reality Bites” soundtrack CD, which contains songs by Lenny Kravitz (“Spinning Around Over You”). Dinosaur, Jr. (“Turnip Farm”), and Squeeze (“Tempted”).

I’ve been asked by the director of IUN’s Center for Urban and Regional Excellence to talk about Gary history to a group of around a dozen high school students who are involved in an urban renewal project. For my trouble I’ll get to eat pizza. I said yes.

The Engineers bowled a team that was so good they had to give us over 200 pins handicap. In the first game, thanks to John Bulot rolling a 231, the Engineers beat them by over 160 pins.

Ron Cohen was in the Archives because, like me, he was going to a luncheon for IUN faculty who had published a book within the last two years. He informed the campus that Gary native and Nobel laureate in economics Joseph Stiglitz addressed the Occupy Wall Street protestors, telling them “"You are right to be indignant. The fact is that the system is not working right. It is not right that we have so many people without jobs when we have so many needs that we have to fulfill. It's not right that we are throwing people out of their houses when we have so many homeless people. Our financial markets have an important role to play. They're supposed to allocate capital, manage risks. We are bearing the costs of their misdeeds. There's a system where we've socialized losses and privatized gains. That's not capitalism; that's not a market economy. That's a distorted economy, and if we continue with that, we won't succeed in growing, and we won't succeed in creating a just society."

At the luncheon I sat next to mathematician Stela Pudar-Hozo and Health and Human Services director Pat Bankston. Pat mentioned seeing former chancellor Peggy Elliott at a charity function for Methodist Hospitals and that she is presently working in Texas. There’s evidently an index of retired university officials who can offer their services to fill in at universities that need interim administrators. Pat reported that she looked great and was as vivacious as ever. Pat talked about running unsuccessfully as a Republican for Porter County Commissioner. I told him that one local Republican I could vote for was State Senator Ed Charbonneau, who served with me on the Gary Centennial Committee. Mark Hoyert heard me and feigned shock that I’d vote Republican. I told him the last Republican I voted for other than locally was Pennsylvania Senator Hugh Scott in 1968, and I came to regret it when in 1972 he called George McGovern the Triple-A candidate for abortion, amnesty and acid. Disgusting. The last one he voted for was Maryland Senator Charles “Mac” Mathias, who clashed frequently with Nixon.

Eva Mendietta showed me the cover of the Spanish language version of her book about Catalina de Erauso, a former nun who posed as a man and had a swashbuckling military career during the seventeenth century. The shot was taken in the interior of the old, abandoned City Methodist Church.

Following the luncheon sculptor Neil Goodman, recipient of the 2011 outstanding scholar award, gave an informative lecture based largely on the pieces he did for IUN’s sculpture garden. Chris Young told me that two of his students who are giving a paper in two weeks on the Elbert H. Gary statue and the Michael Jackson monument want to interview me tomorrow or Monday.

I got a call from Ray and Trish Arredondo from Arizona State University, where they had given a talk to students who had been assigned “Maria’s Journey.” They were having lunch with old friend and co-editor of “Forging a Community” Ed Escobar. Small world. Ed filled me in on how his family is doing and invited us to visit them. The last time I saw him was in Indianapolis when we were on a panel together at a history conference. Ray and Trish said their talk went very well.

Pop Up Art

2011-10-31T12:00:00.003-05:00

Up and down Lake Street in Gary’s Miller Beach business district on Saturday from 6 until 9 local artists displayed their wares at a dozen different locations. After having Chinese food at Dick and Cheryl Hagelbergs, we started out at the old Miller Drugs, where Corey Hagelberg and seven others had hung their work. I had not been there since owner Frank had finally given up trying to compete with the big pharmacy chains. Thirty years ago, I persuaded him to offer “Gary: A Pictorial History” for sale, and he ended up unloading about 200 copies. A big crowd was on hand, including most of our Miller friends, including Nancy and Ron Cohen, Omar Farag, Kay and Bud Rosen, Karren and Pat Lee, Tom Eaton and Pat Conlin, Cindy Fredrick, Bill and Terry Payonk, Gene and Judy Ayers, Jim and Elaine Spicer, and Tanice Foltz in a belly dancer outfit under her coat (she was going to a Halloween Party later). Laura Kittle, who works at IUN, waved, but she was gone before I had a chance to talk with her. Down the street in Curves, a fitness center, were Al and Alice Sasek, who was displaying some of her glass pieces. Joyce’s Lake Street Gallery was packed, and she had art displayed on the surprisingly large second floor area. Even Miller Pizza had pieces on display; we ran into old friend Ramon there. Most places had wines and snacks, but we saved enough room for pumpkin pie when we got back to the Hagelbergs.

Had my best gaming day in months, winning three of four, including a rare victory in Stone Age by playing the starvation strategy. I lucked out in Acquire when both Dave and Tom spent the bulk of their original $6,000 on Continental stock, each thinking the other had the merging tile. The only reason I stayed out of the race was that I would have been doomed to finish third. Instead I bought stock in the company involved in the first merger, while Continental languished.

The Republican primary race is getting stranger and stranger. Establishment candidate Mitt Romney excites nobody, and Texas governor Rick Perry keeps sinking in the polls like a lead balloon and is even behind pizza man Herman Cain in the Lone Star State. Liberal and conservative commentators alike are outraged by a Cain ad where campaign aide Mark Block is shown smoking, but it certainly generated much publicity. The press loves to build someone up and then tear him down. The latest revelation is that two women filed sexual harassment grievances against him 15 years ago while he was head of the National Restaurant Association. He called the accusations false and at first claimed to be unaware of any settlement paid to his accusers before acknowledging that he knew about an agreement.

My review of the Thyra Edwards biography is taking shape. Her sister was the saintly Thelma Marshall, longtime director of Lake County Children’s Home, who co-chaired the local chapter of the Women’s International League for Peace and Freedom when Toni and I moved to Gary. It was the most active area antiwar group, and both Toni and I joined as a way to protest the Vietnam fiasco. Thelma’s son was Shakespearean actor William Marshall, blacklisted for his radical views and most famous, ironically for playing “Blacula” in that Black exploitation flick.

I sent this email to Ray Smock: “It looks like Herman Cain is a victim of a high-tech lynching, just like his favorite Supreme Court justice Clarence Thomas. It was inevitable that when Cain didn’t quickly fade away like Trump, Bachman and Perry, his sex life would get examined. Much as I loathe Clarence Thomas, I never saw Anita Hill as being all that much of a victim. She could have walked away when he started talking about “Long Dong Silver” and pubic hair, simply told him to shut up, or, better yet, slapped him upside his head. Many Black guys of our generation banter about sex, even in mixed company, in a way that might be offensive to feminists and faint-of-hearts. If crudeness disqualified one for the presidency, only wimps would be left to choose from (to paraphrase Doris Kearns Goodwin at the time of Clinton’s impeachment). If Cain did something out of bounds, OK, let’s hear about it, but the press is taking the bullshit position that what matters more that what he might have done is whether he is being evasive or covering it up.”

I added, “The climate in Washington, vis a vis Obama, reminds me of Chicago after Harold Washington was elected mayor – the losers were determined never to cooperate or acknowledge his legitimacy. MSNBC has this blurb where “Morning Joe” Scarborough is talking with Bill Clinton and claims that as much as Republicans fought him, they were able to work for the common good. In the original interview, knowing that is bullshit, Clinton looks Joe in the eye and with a grin replies, “Well, you did shut the government down twice and vote to impeach me.”

Ray replied that we’ll soon find out with the Cain thing whether it was just a case of two disgruntled employees or if sexual harassment was a pattern in his life. Regarding Morning Joe, he wrote: “The bit I have seen on Morning Joe, which I catch every day, has Clinton saying that working with Republicans when Scarborough was there was productive. I have not seen the part where he talks about the shut downs and the impeachment. Maybe they edited that part out. Scarborough was one of Newt’s hotheads when he was in the House. He has grown up some since he left Congress. People can change and I certainly don’t despise Joe now like I did when he was in the House. We both have changed. I see the concept of Change writ large in Senator Byrd’s career. From Klansman to Statesman. But some people, especially our dear friends in academic life, cannot forgive Byrd. I hated Byrd in the 60s and 70s. I was diametrically opposed to his positions on Civil Rights and later his superhawk support of the Vietnam War. He will never be fully redeemed for his past positions, but that does not mean we shouldn’t try to see his full context over a half century. It is a very human story, and his career represents some of the major transitions that occurred in American society in our lifetimes.”

Halloween at the condo was much fun. We took our candy and joined neighbor Sue Harrison, who had her garage door up and was seated with her friend Dave and a big bowl of candy. Toni also took over chili. Our front door is somewhat obscured from view, so this way trick-or-treaters could get a double dose at one place. Ken and Christine, whose unit is between Sue’s and ours, were also passing out treats after they arrived home about halfway through the two-hour period. I asked most people who they were, and one guy said, “Jason.” I thought he misunderstood me and was telling me his name, but Toni clued me in that he was referring to the villain in the “Friday the 13th” films.

The Anthropology dollar book sale is underway, and I found a 1997 issue of the literary magazine “Spirits” had contained a poem by Bill Buckley entitled “Down from Walgreen’s” and an essay about shopping and musical tastes by George Bodmer, where he recalled driving into Toronto listening to a Doors tape. Dr. Mucci said someone donated a copy of Steve and my book “Skinning Cats” and said that copies were going for ten bucks on Amazon. I donated “Shavings” issues on the 70s, 80s, and 90s. Mucci claims my magazines always go fast. We’ll see.

Mildred Gruenenfelder

2011-10-27T13:46:00.003-05:00

Mildred Gruenenfelder, friend and former bridge player in our monthly group, passed away at age 89. The obit mentioned that she worked as a Gary school librarian until age 76 and was a lover of good fiction (a nice touch). Husband Jack taught philosophy at IUN until he was at least that old. The last time I was at the Burns Funeral Home in Hobart was when one of their sons died. Mil was a gentle soul who enjoyed reading my Shavings magazines and loaned me a couple of Graham Greene novels. At the funeral home were son Tom, who lives in Bloomington with his wife, and Dawn Marie (formerly Vivian), who is a Buddhist monk.

Sheriff Dominguez and I finished going over the copy editor’s suggestions for his autobiography “Valor.” She found it very clean, and our main task was to make the spelling of words consistent (such as Rosie, the nickname for his sister Rosario) and to clarify things that were slightly vague or unexplained. We agreed with most everything the editor did except when she changed the capital N to lower case in Northwest Indiana. Roy found “Valor” listed as “Forthcoming” on the IU Press website that also contained a brief description of it and short author bios of the Sheriff and me. April 12 was given as the date of publication. People can order it right now.

I got an email from a Marion Uecker, who read my blog and hoped I could provide info about Gary ancestors, including Herman Uecker, a cashier killed in 1919 during a bank robbery and his widow Louise a teacher at Beveridge School. I wrote back: “Herman is mentioned in Ronald Cohen’s book “Children of the Mill” because he was a school board member at the time. The 1926 city directory lists Louise as a teacher and widow of Herman residing at 552 Van Buren. The 1930 directory has her in an apartment at 1902 W Fifth with daughter Marion sten (stenographer?). Next to Marion’s name is A. L. Anchors. Albert L. Anchors was one Gary’s pioneer residents and built apartments on the West Side, so perhaps the A.L. Anchors refers to the owner. The 1941 directory lists Louise’s residence as 805 Madison.

Mike Certa ran into an old friend of ours, Karen Orr, at a wake for a mutual friend. I’d have loved to have seen her. She and then-husband Tom took us on a ten-day cruise of the Virgin Islands around 30 years ago. Tom was a softball teammate and sailed the boat nearly across the Atlantic when it was struck by a submarine and sank. A Portuguese fisherman rescued him. Karen was quite beautiful and voluptuous and a Nursing student at IUN when I first started teaching.

It was taco day (my favorite) at IUN. In the cafeteria were regulars Alan Lindmark, Jean Poulard, Chuck Gallmeier, Kurt Nelson, and Bill Dorin. Ran into Jon Briggs and Anne Balay near the History office. I told Anne I was looking forward to hearing guest speaker Irit Tzvelli speak on “Being Gay in Israel” next Wednesday. She suggested we have lunch afterward.

I bowled poorly but the Engineers won 5 of 7 points, the seventh time we did that this year. Three weeks we were shut out, so our record is 35-35, not bad for a bunch of geezers. The team only had 32 strikes after 29 frames, but we had 8 strikes in the final frame, amazing especially since Frank, our best bowler, didn’t have any of them.

Champagne Cellars of Mareuil

2011-10-24T10:54:00.004-05:00

“Caught beneath a landslide
In a champagne supernova.”
Oasis

Jean Poulard gave me a copy of his book “The Champagne Cellars of Mareuil: The Story of a Family and a Village.” Jean was born in 1939, and the Nazis took over his French village soon afterwards. The Germans occupied the village after the French leader Marshal Petain signed a humiliating treaty in June of 1940. They forced several dozen young men to go to forced labor camps in Germany. I prrofread the manuscript for him and his inscription reads: “To Jim Lane to whom I owe a debt of gratitude for the unfailing collegiality he has always demonstrated to me. Thanks for helping with this endeavor.” I emailed him: “Thank you so much for the awesome book and the thoughtful inscription. It is so great that “Mareuil” was published in English as well as French. You have done a masterful job in keeping alive memories of a family and a village.”

In the prologue Poulard mentions that the village of Mareuil-Sur-Aÿ, located on the right bank of the Marne River, was bombed and had its bridges destroyed and that in July of 1944 he witnessed human corpses being dragged onto its banks. During Allied bombings the wine cellars became a refuge for villagers. Poulard wrote about the Americans liberating Mareuil shortly after the German retreated. Villagers brought them sweets and bottles of champagne and wine and that they were more interested in fresh tomatoes. Two young women who had consorted with German soldiers suffered the humiliation of having their heads shaved. Jean was just five years old at that time. As life returned to normal he recalled following his father on a bike to the family vegetable garden and going for Sunday walks on the bank of the canal observing the fishermen and their catch. He wrote: “There were many pike in the canal. These fish were prized; I loved to eat one when it was well fried.” Poulard’s family moved away from Mareuil in 1949 and after his father died in 1957, Jean came to America with a sister and her American husband. A year later, at age 18, he enlisted in the American army and then pursued a college education at Otterbein College in Ohio before earning advance degrees at the U. of Chicago.

In response to my query Anastasia Churkina, who filmed Steve and me for a short documentary about the decline of Gary, sent a link to the four-minute piece. Steve, who showed her around downtown and got them into the ruins of City Methodist Church, is in it quite a bit while I appear for about five seconds. My only line: Gary’s two growth industries are strip clubs and truck stops.” I’m gone in the blink of an eye.

I’ve been reading “Maggie’s American Dream: The Life and Times of a Black Family by James Comer and plan to have a chapter about Maggie and husband in my “On Their Shoulders” book.

Fred McColly stopped in to see me after planting some winter wheat in his Native American garden. It evidently put good chemicals in the ground and will come up in the early spring.

Returning the Clarence Darrow biography to the Chesterton library I came across Richard M. Lytle’s “The Great Circus Train Wreck of 1918: Tragedy Along the Indiana Lakeshore.” The author is a Hammond library and appears to have done an excellent job. Some 86 people died when an engineer fell asleep and his train plowed into an idle Hagenback-Wallace Circus Train. Steve is going to order it for the Archives.

Good eating this week. Tuesday David bought Chinese food for Angie’s 41st birthday. Wednesday I packed a ham and cheese sandwich and just had yogurt, chips, and cookies for supper since I had a condo association board meeting. Thursday was free Latin food at lunch (yummy and perfectly spiced) and then Toni’s stuffed peppers for dinner, and Friday I bogarded a sandwich and some cookies left over after a Faculty Org meeting that I didn’t attend followed by Toni’s flounder and fried green tomatoes (provided by bowling teammate Frank) for dinner. Saturday was Carpatho-Rusyn food for lunch and chili at Hagelbergs. Sunday Toni made stuffed peppers as the Dick Halelberg came over for the Bears game in London and Cheryl went shopping with Toni.

My talk at the Carpatho-Rusyn anniversary banquet went well. I talked about what Gary was like a hundred years ago. Here’s my opening paragraph: “The first decade of the twentieth century was a period of rapid industrialization in the Midwest and also a time when record numbers of newcomers, almost 9 million of them, emigrated to America. Most were from Eastern, Central, and Southern Europe, including many Eastern Rite Catholics from villages located near the Carpathian Mountains. The first destination for some of these newcomers were coalfield areas in Pennsylvania and Illinois. Before they arrived in Gary to work in the recently completed integrated Steel mills of the United States Steel Corporation, Carpatho-Rusyns pursued opportunities in nearby Indiana Harbor and Whiting, as well as the Windy City of Chicago. This mass migration that furnished Gary with so many hard workers was a result of what historians have labeled push factors and pull factors. In eastern Slovokia, for instance, rural poverty and rapid population growth prodded many adventurous young men to embark on the trans-Atlantic journey. Oppression by Hungarian authorities also contributed to the exodus. Pull factors included the lure of a decent paying job and the affordability of steamship fares. Most of the newcomers to America initially hoped to earn enough money to return home and become landowners. Sometimes there was a chain migration effect. In a letter home one former villager might brag about how well he was doing and convince family and friends to follow in his footsteps.”

My hostess, Charlotte Conjelko, was married to an Eastern Rite priest and knew several former IUN faculty, including Ruth Needleman and Lou Ciminillo. Tim Cuprisin, who originally invited me after coming across my blog, followed me with a brief history of the three churches that were founded in Gary in 1911. Fred Chary, who was at the IUN lunch table, knew Charlotte and Father John from various liberal causes. I mentioned that I was reviewing a book about radical journalist Thyra Edwards and the subject of the Scottsboro trials came up. Michelle Stokely was surprised that I had not heard about the successful Broadway musical called “The Scottsboro Boys.”

The Occupy Wall Street movement has come to Gary. People gathered near City Hall Saturday from one to three. The organizers advised participants to “make your protest peaceful but determined” and suggested singing rather than shouting and not to let provocateurs or the police rattle you. Generally, the Gary police have been friendly and cooperative during past antiwar marches. I know many of the organizers, including Julie Chary and Ed Johnston.

California Wedding

2011-10-17T11:09:00.002-05:00

“True love
Is not the kind of thing
You should turn down.”
Avett Brothers, “January Wedding”

Toni, Alissa, Josh, and I flew to California Thursday for Jim Satkoski’s wedding. A limo took us to O’Hare and we flew nonstop to LAX via Virgin America Airlines, which provided plenty of seat space and individual TV sets. Alissa’s mom Beth met us with an SUV and drove the 180 miles to Avila Beach on California’s central coast. Beth had reserved us rooms at The Inn, a rustic place right by the Pacific Ocean where the sound of waves reached our room.

The rehearsal was at an apple orchard in a very nice setting. The bride’s parents were of German ancestry and very pleasant. One of Erika’s friends, who had vegan tattooed on her arm, obtained a certificate online that allows her to marry people, and she was nervous, as this was her first ceremony. Alissa was asked to recite a poem by e.e. cummings. At a chapel in San Luis Obispo Jimmy’s mother Donna read kind of a combination prayer and toast and then Jimmy introduced everyone. When he came to me, he mentioned that I had been his Little League coach and that our families were intertwined in many ways, including Phil and Dave being close friends. Then we went to a jazz club for dinner, a vegetarian buffet that was quite delicious followed by a performance by a trio doing what was billed as gypsy jazz. The five of us had a nightcap back at the Inn on an outdoor deck.

San Luis Obispo (Spanish for St. Louis the Bishop) was founded as a Catholic mission in 1772 and now is a college town (home of Cal Poly). The whole area is beautiful with rolling hills and wineries aplenty. We had breakfast at the Custom House, which has a history dating back a century although in 1998 the discovery of oil seepage forced the entire main street to be closed down for four years. Unocal agreed to settle for $30 million to rebuild the downtown and replace the oil-damaged sand. The wedding proceeded without a hitch. Old family friend Tom Horvath – in from New York with his wife and two kids - was best man. It was also great seeing Erick Orr and his family (Margaret and the twins). He’d been in the band LINT with Dave in high school and had come back, to NW Indiana for a reunion concert last year. Jimmy’s birth mother, who he first met about ten years ago, was on hand and got along real well with his parents Donna and Bob. During the dinner and reception afterwards background music included “January Wedding” by the Avett brothers. We topped off the night at a nightclub located at the Madonna Inn, a kitschy landmark hotel. A big band played swing music and the dance floor was filled. Maid of Honor Julie got several of us to jitterbug with her, including the bride’s 73 year-old father. The men’s room was reputed to be one of the top ten in the world and featured a urinal with an activated waterfall. There are several YouTube videos online for those who are curious.

Sunday was traveling day, but beforehand I watched a ceremony dedicating the Martin Luther King Memorial in Washington, D.C. Aretha Franklin and Stevie Wonder sang, and president Obama gave a stirring speech that provided historic perspective and mentioned the ongoing anti-Wall Street protests and said that MLK would have approved. On the plane I watched the Bears beat up on Donovan McNabb and the hapless Vikings. When Devon Hester ran back a punt for a TD several passengers cheered. Home by midnight, thanks to limo driver Dave. A good trip. It was great seeing Jimmy so happy, being with cool people, and discovering a part of the country I’d never been to before.

Now that Herman Cain has shot up to the top of the Republican Presidential hopefuls, he is getting lots of media scrutiny. It is interesting that Newsweek has “Yes We Cain” on the cover and Time’s latest cover story is “The New Silent Majority” by Joe Klein. Asked about something outrageous that he’d said on the stump, he claimed it was a joke. According to Ray Smock, his sugar daddies are the Koch brothers, the same rightwing billionaires that financed the campaign of the antiunion governor of Wisconsin. As Ray points out, Cain is the darling of evangelicals, who during the nineteenth century, in his words, abandoned blacks once slavery was ended, just like today’s evangelicals abandon children once they are out of the womb.
When we left for California, the weather was still balmy, like it had been for the first two weeks in October. We came back to autumn. When I rebooted my computer, Entourage was missing, but Velate Sullivan came over and found the application. Indiana Magazine of History sent me a book to review, “Thyra J. Edwards: Black Activist in the Global Freedom Struggle.” Thyra lived in Gary for 12 years and was the sister of Saintly Thelma Marshall, who was a social worker and head of the local antiwar group Women’s International league for Peace and Freedom, as well as the mother of actor William Marshall.

At lunch I mentioned that Gloria Steinem talked at a conference marking the twentieth anniversary of the Anita Hill testimony at the Clarence Thomas confirmation hearings and mentioned that a high percentage of veterans suffering from PTSD were sexually harassed or assaulted. Psychology professor Kurt Nelson, who has done research at VA hospitals, agreed.

Handle with Care

2011-10-10T10:33:00.002-05:00

“Reputations changeable
Situations tolerable.”
“George Harrison, “Handle with Care”

The George Clooney movie “Ides of March” held my interest despite a rather weak plot line. Philip Seymour Hoffman and Paul Giamatti are fantastic as rival campaign managers, and Marisa Tomei shines as a nosey reporter. More memorable was a three-hour documentary directed by martin Scorsese of Beatle George Harrison entitled “Living in the Material World.” Harrison had a spiritual side and a carnal side and could be both caring and ruthless. I loved the part where the Traveling Wilburys, including Roy Orbison, are rehearsing. George got the title to my favorite song, “Handle with Care” from a box that was in the room. George’s wife describes the home invasion and attempted assassination in horrifying detail.

Beatle Paul McCartney, three months younger than I, got married for the third time to a 51 year-old socialite, Nancy Shevell, who reputedly is as rich as he is. Maybe richer, considering his last wife took him pretty good to the cleaners.

Time magazine stopped the presses to put Steve Jobs, who died of cancer, on the cover. Nice touch for a man who ranks with Henry Ford and Thomas Edison as one of the great innovators of all time. On a lesser note Oakland Raiders owner Al Davis kicked the bucket. Though he was one of the most hated men in the sport, you would never know it from the tributes he is getting.

At some Values Conference put together by evangelicals, a minister who introduced Texas governor Perry referred to Mormonism, Romney’s religion, as a cult. Even though fewer than a third of all Americans support the Tea Party, Republican candidates dare not even hint at being anything but orthodox when it comes to so-called family values. In an email to Ray Smock I made reference to Hank Williams, Jr., leaving Monday Night Football after comparing Obama’s golf outing with John Boehner to Hitler playing golf with Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu. I wrote: “The last Saturday Night Live had a couple funny skits, especially one about Hank Williams, Jr., refusing to apologize for comparing Obama to Hitler and the other about Chris Christie explaining why he isn’t running. The show has been pretty bad since Tiny Fey stopped doing Palin and Obama got in – it’s hard to mock the Prez and even though the guy who does him has the mannerisms down, most skits just fell flat. Governor Mitt Romney seems more and more like what Eisenhower was to the Republican Party on the 1950s – the Eastern establishment candidate trying to keep the crazies from taking over the Grand Old Party. It is amazing how much the yokels hate him even though Mr. Sincerity has SLICK written all over him.”

I picked up a biography of Clarence Darrow at the Chesterton library subtitled “Attorney for the Damned.” Author John A Farrell wrote the 2002 biography “Tip O’Neill and the American Century” that I reviewed for Magill’s Literary Annual. One of Darrow’s first unpopular cases was trying to save the life of crazed assassin Patrick Prendergast, who killed Chicago mayor Carter Harrison in 1893. It was the last time one of his clients was executed. In a chapter called “Free Love” Farrell writes that Darrow was a rake but not a heel. Like Bill Clinton, he took interest in and respected those he seduced and didn’t lead them on. Many were young Hull House workers who were not lesbians like Lady Jane.

It was a bad sports weekend with the Phillies knocked out of the playoffs, IU bowing to Illinois and the Eagles’s so-called “Dream Team” falling to 1 and 4. Tiger Woods finished thirtieth in a golf tournament, and a fan got arrested for throwing a hot dog at him.

By happy coincidence most Court One condo residents were outside when I took out the garage container and recycle bins. The couple in Unit 411 normally walks two dogs but only had one with them. The other evidently splits time with a former spouse. One person suggested we have a group yard sale. I’ll find out at the next board meeting if we can.

Shannon Pontney called for our address because she’s getting married in December. She appreciated my mention in v.41 of her and her dad, Rich, who died unexpectedly after a fall. I haven’t met the fiancé; her old boyfriend, Maury, I kept calling Rory until it got to be a standing joke. She said she’d understand if I didn’t come all the way to Fort Wayne for the wedding, and I told her I’d come even if it were in California (where, in fact, we’re headed next weekend for Jimmy Satkoski’s nuptials.

Budd Ballou dropped by the Archives and, having read volume 41 over the weekend, asked how I knew his friend, attorney Clyde Compton. I drew a blank for a moment and then recalled how he attended my talk to the Ogden Dunes Historical Society and noticed I had dedicated my Postwar issue to Art Daronatsy and other “Old Lefties.” He was a big admirer and friend of Art.

Sent this email to Chris Young: “I had a chance to read “Gentle Power of Opinion: The Federalist Campaign against the Massachusetts Constitutional Society” over the weekend and found it, as expected, very insightful and well-written. O thought the sub-headings were very useful in introducing the various sections. How about that eerie picture of Jedidiah Morse – what type of reproduction is that, an artist’s rendering, perhaps? He looks like a truly scary individual.”

Mind Space

2011-10-06T13:00:00.002-05:00

“You gotta stay
In your mind.”
D J Luna, “Mindspace”

On October 3 Ann Fritz of IUN’s Gallery for Contemporary Art hosted a reception for six excellent Chicago artists, including Louise LeBourgeois, who does lush landscapes of areas near Lake Michigan as well as the lake itself. One of just waves and sky was my favorite. The show was entitled “Hand Space/Mind Space,” and the artists were on hand talking informally about their pieces. Louise mentioned liking to swim in Lake Michigan and once feared that she had gone out too far when it suddenly got foggy and she could feel rip tides. She teaches at Columbia College, where several of my students have gone. Her business card is a small square replicas of one of her paintings with the info on how to contact her on the back.

Steve McShane introduced me to Budd Ballou, a local historian and Geography teacher, who was in the Archives researching old school buildings that existed in south Lake County over a century ago. He was fascinated with my Shavings issue on Cedar Lake and familiar with the writings of historian Beatrice Horner, who is featured on the cover. A former wrestling coach, he mentioned knowing Bob Petyko, whose controversial remarks are a highlight of the issue, and coaching his son. Petyko came of age during the Sixties, when his hometown, nicknamed Cedar Tucky was a rendezvous spot for motorcycle gangs.

It’s nail-biting time in the Phillies-Cardinals series. Albert Pujols has been fantastic, stealing third base in one game, getting four hits in another, and last night throwing Chase Utley out at third when he tried to take an extra base on a hit-and-run groundout. Hopefully “Doc” Holladay can win the decisive game on Friday.

Searching for information about the parents of Gary-born Nobel Prize winner (in Economics) Joseph Stiglitz, I found a 2005 obit on his mother Charlotte that claimed she taught at Purdue Cal until she retired at age 80 in 1995. I called fellow historian Lance Trusty, but he hadn’t heard of her. Odd! She could have been a part-timer or maybe the obit had the facts wrong. I have emailed Stiglitz at two sites, but return messages indicate he doesn’t answer most queries. The Wall of Legends committee is honoring him and another Gary-born Nobel winner, Paul Samuelson, in December along with five Medal of Honor winners and the Jacksons. I did find some info on Stiglitz’s parent in Michael Hirsh’s Capital Offense: How Washington’s Wise Men Turned America Over to Wall Street. His father Nate was an insurance salesman.

The Chesterton Tribune article by Kevin Nevers finally came out, entitled “IUN Historian listens to the region’s voices.” As I emailed him, it was worth the wait and as good as anything written about what I’ve been trying to do with Steel Shavings. He mentions that I’m a bowler, sports fan, fantasy footballer, WXRT listener, recent resident of Chesterton, and proud Hoosier. I had asked him to emphasize the student “Ides of March” journals and he quotes from four of them, as well as this Editor’s Note excerpt: “Working mothers struggled with homework, jobs, and family duties, including caring for elderly parents and grandparents. Almost everyone complained of rising gas prices and food costs and worried about the earthquake, tsunami and nuclear meltdown in Japan and the military operations against Libyan leader Muammar Gadhafi. Primarily Education majors, they had strong opinions about the union rallies in Indianapolis and Madison, Wisconsin, to protect teachers.”

Electrical Engineers won 5 of 7 points thanks to our new guy Duke. I had pathetically few strikes but did win two of the quarter-pots. I called Bill, our captain, with the good news. He can’t drive after dark and misses coming to the alley – maybe in the spring, he said. Stayed up to see heavy metal band Mastodon do “Curl of the Burl” on Letterman. It starts out. “I killed a man ‘cause he killed my goat.” The title means something like “It’s just the way of the world.”

Talk On Indolence

2011-09-30T13:11:00.003-05:00

“Now I've grown too aware of my mortality
To let go and forget about dying
Long enough to drop the hammer down
And let the indolence go wild and flying through.”
Avett Brothers

Last night I went to an Avett Brothers concert at the Star Plaza. Beforehand, I met Robert Blaszkiewicz at the Old Chicago Pizza and Pasta place next door. Robert first turned me on to the Avett Brothers by including “Talk On Indolence” on the Christmas CD of his 20 favorite songs of 2010. While I was at the bar, a guy interjected, “Mr. Lane?” It turned out to be Jeff Kessner, who played soccer with Phil more than 25 years ago and attended parties at our house on Maple Place.

The warm-up group was the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band, old Hippie Seventies Bluegrass Rockers most famous for the song “Mr. Bojangles.” They joked about being on a tour bus with Willie nelson and visiting John Mellencamp’s hometown of Seymour, Indiana, in connection with Farm Aid. The lead singer reminded me of the ageless Jackson Browne. Their violin player was outasight, as was the drummer/harmonica player, and the band got a standing ovation after their hour set.

In the lobby during intermission was former student and head of security Stevie Kokos, a Shavings subscriber, who like many folks was more familiar with the Nitty gritty Dirt Band than the main act. Softball battery mate and concert producer Omar Farag, whom I’d called to plug the show, greeted me heartily accompanied by Miller Beach mainstay Joe Petras, who 40 years ago first turned me on to the importance of Gary’s history. I told Robert and Jeff that Omar had put on a festival during the early Nineties at the lake County Fairgrounds featuring Poi Dog Pondering, the Jayhawks, and WILCO. Amazed, both of them said that they had gone and it was one of the best concerts ever.

The Avett Brothers, who are playing to a sold out Aragon Ballroom audience tonight, were fantastic, often bouncing up and down like yo-yos while singing and playing guitar and banjo. They did “Head Full of Doubt/ Road Full of Promise” about halfway through the show with Scott Avett on keyboards, bringing down the house, and mixed in numerous melodious a capello numbers, including “Murder in the City,” before ending with “Talk On Indolence.” I was in the seventh row, but nearly everyone was standing so about halfway through I went near the back and found a seat with an excellent view. Robert and his friends had front row balcony seats, and I was tempted to join them.

A storm was brewing on the way home, the wind knocking my Corolla around on 80/94. Back home while having a Leinie nightcap, our lights flickered several times. Had we been at the old homestead on Maple Place, we’d still be without power, I’m sure. Put on Robert’s “Top 20 2010” CD, which starts out with “A More Perfect Union” by Titus Andronicus.” In a recent NY Times Sunday magazine article about school experiences Titus guitarist Amy Klein about an eight year-old overcoming stage fright: “I volunteer as a guitar teacher and a band coach at the Willie Mae Rock Camp for Girls. It’s totally punk. Many of the girls have no prior musical experience — and that’s the point: We present them with a challenge and encourage them to grow. I was coaching a band of 8-year-olds. On the day of the concert, the lead singer was suddenly overcome by stage fright. “I don’t want to do this anymore,” she whispered. I told her that she would be amazing and that her bandmates needed her right now. About a minute before the performance, I finally asked, “What would make you feel safe right now?” She responded, “If you held my hand.” I stood in the wings with my arm outstretched, the singer holding on. When it was time for the chorus, she chimed in, at first shyly, then louder. By the end of the chorus, she had let go of my hand. She ran out to the center of the stage, and an enormous cheer swept through the crowd. Hundreds of hands clapped to the beat. Fists were raised. Eyes teared up. A huge smile broke out on the singer’s face. She had grasped what it is to feel powerful.”

Today I checked out “55/55,” a so-called comedy about Adam (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) a young cancer victim. Seth Rogen played the guy’s buddy and Anna Kendrick his therapist. Trying to get his buddy and himself laid, he suggests that the two pick-ups go back Adam’s apartment and smoke some medical marijuana. “Game on,” one of them replies. When he first saw her, his reaction was something like, “Is this a Joke? Am I your first client?” Actually he was her third, and she was really fetching. In one scene she gives him a ride home, but her car is so full of fast food wrappings and other junk he makes her stop the car by a dumpster and starts throwing things away. At one point she stops him, saying, “That’s my dinner.” Anjelica Huston is great as Adam’s mom.

Gary's Next Mayor

2011-09-28T16:39:00.002-05:00

I interviewed Karen Freeman Wilson, Gary’s next mayor, at her law office downtown across from The SteelYard, where the minor league baseball team, The Railcats, play their home games. We talked mainly about her parents for my book “On Their Shoulders.” She’s a Gary native who went to Harvard after graduating from Roosevelt High School. Then I attended her Press Conference at IUN where she introduced members of her “New Day Task Force.” There was a big crowd, including Chancellor Lowe and legislator Charlie Brown.

Steve Walsh had me on his noon Lakeshore radio program, along with Times reporter Bill Dolan and Cal Bellamy, a former bank executive and President of something called the Shared Ethics Commission. The occasion: the recent indictment of former Lake County Clerk Thomas Philpott, who evidently paid himself $25,000 in incentive money without getting approval from the Lake County Council. I mentioned how the two former Gary mayors who went to jail were popular and effective, only they made enemies in high corporate places. Lake County graft is small potatoes compared to the millions Governor Daniels’ law firm has made and the tens of millions Dick Cheney raked in as he went from the Pentagon to Haliburton to the Vice Presidency. In his new book “Keeping the Republic: Saving America By Trusting Americans” Mitch Daniels trashes Northwest Indiana, calling it corrupt and union-driven. Labor organizations, of course, were responsible for moving steelworkers into the middle class and the main protector against worker exploitation. He has been bent on destroying public schools just as he wrecked the state welfare system by privatizing it. He also sold away the Toll Road so he could claim he balanced the budget. What a slug. Mitch is a pawn of big business, whose lobbyists have corrupted the system much worse than former Gary City Clerk Katie Hall making her staff sell candy or former East Chicago Mayor Pabey having city employees make improvements on a house.

One more “High School Confidential” paragraph: After Wendy got off the phone, Jimmy opened his yearbook to see what he recalled about classmates. Often it was embarrassing stuff, like so-and-so farted in class, or this guy had such a small dick he was ashamed to shower in gym class. One guy was a total klutz in every sport but tumbling, for which his roly-poly body was perfect. If they got talking about classmates at Wendy’s, Jimmy hoped he could censor himself against making any cruel remarks. What a wide variety of characters in the Class of 1960, and how few had aspirations to attend college. On the first senior page under Clyde Alexander was the caption “a future auto mechanic” and under Mildred Armstrong “wants to be a receptionist.” Bruce Allen’s ambition was “to buy a Ferrari” and Joanne Arnold hoped to be a nurse.

Love the new Jayhawks album. On WXRT I heard a cut off it, “She Walks In So Many Ways.” Also am enjoying my new Avett Brothers album. I’ll be sitting in Row F tomorrow. Good single tickets are always available.

I sucked at bowling but did pick up a 8-7-10 split.

Family Matters

2011-09-26T11:29:00.002-05:00

Last Thursday I watched the East Chicago Cardinals tennis team, coached by my son Dave, defeat Lake Station 4-1. He’s back teaching three weeks after he was struck by a car, injuring his leg. His number one singles player Armando Nunez, played great, and his number two player has improved greatly and gutted out a three-set match. He lost his third singles player, Amaad, when the car also rammed him, breaking his kneecap and leg.

Friday we took a two-hour road trip to Grand Rapids, Michigan, to see Miranda, named to her high school’s Homecoming court, participate in an afternoon parade and then a halftime ceremony at the football game. Miranda looked radiant in her orange formal dress. Saturday we watched Tori score a goal in soccer and then took her, Phil, Anthony, and two of the kids’ friends out to a favorite diner. Delia was doing Miranda’s hair for the dance that night, so we took home a burger for Miranda.

Sunday I went one for three gaming with Dave and Tom, then after a Fun Day at James and Becca’s school Toni and I went to Anne Balay’s for dinner. We met four interesting characters from Chicago. Later I discovered that I had lost my Fantasy match with Anthony despite being one of the week’s top scorers. Not only is my top draft choice, Jamaal Charles, out for the season, but a Johnny Knox TD punt return was called back and the vaunted Jets defense only got me one point (all I needed was 10 points – should have played the Lions D; I’d have won in a breeze). In the Saints-Oilers game four times in the Red Zone Houston couldn’t get the ball to Andre Johnson and settled for field goals by Anthony’s guy. Then twice the Saints went for two-point conversions instead of letting my kicker gety an extra point. With ten seconds left and the Saints up by seven my guy kicked a field goal only Houston was off sides and the Saints coach took the three points off the board and instead had Drew Brees go back in and take a knee. What friggin’ luck.

Monday my computer wouldn’t open because I had not re-registered it. Lena at IUN’s HELP desk walked me through the procedure.

In the mail: a check from the Lowell Public Library for Shavings, volume 41, plus a letter from Terry Helton. He mentioned a book by Richard Laskowski called “Region Rat” that deals with Gary and the surrounding environs. Laskowski also put together a two=minute YouTube segment that looks like the pilot for a larger project.

I picked up a ticket for Thursday’s Avett Brothers concert. The opening act is the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band, whose big hit was “Mr. Bojangles.” Best Buy had a 2007 Avett Brothers CD called “Emotionalism,” and then it was on to see “Moneyball,” a tour de force for Brad Pitt, who also produced it. It deals with Oakland A’s general manager Billy Beane, who used computer-generated statistical info to put together a ball team that won a hundred games, including a record 20 in a row. Jonah Hill is great as his assistant, and Philip Seymour Hoffman (for my money, the best actor in the business) was perfect as curmudgeon manage Art Howe.

In my “On Their Shoulders” book will be a chapter on Leo and Minna, the parents TVA administrator David Lilienthal, who grew up in Valparaiso and Michigan City. Lilienthal kept a journal starting at age 17 on the advice of a young lawyer from Gary. We have six volumes of his published writings from it in the Archives. I have an interview with incoming Gary mayor Karen Freeman-Wilson on Wednesday. Chris Young thanked me for the close reading of his article on commemorative statues and passed along the info that Robert Paine, who did the Haym Solomon sculpture, was from Valpo.

Here’s the latest installment of the clandestine memoir about high school days: “Wendy most wanted to see Anthony Stuempfig, who arrived in eleventh grade looking for all the world like he belonged at Penn Charter, Germantown Academy, or some other private school. He wasn’t particularly handsome but oozed sophistication. Molly could have dated any boy in school, not to mention collegians, but chose to make him her steady, giving him instant credibility with classmates. In homeroom, curious as to the basis of his charm, Wendy couldn’t penetrate his air of mystery. During graduation ceremonies the school superintendent read out full names, to frequent guffaws at such middle names as Milton, Ebeneezer, and Buchanan. Anthony had two of them, Alex and Penn. Could he have been a descendent of William Penn, the founder of Pennsylvania colony? It was not out of the question, giving his signs of breeding. Years later, Wendy discovered an Anthony A.P. Stuempfig antique store in Center City Philadelphia. When she paid a visit, dressed to the nines, he waited on her, impeccable in a dark suit and pink shirt and tie. They looked one another in the eye for a few moments and in unison said, “I remember you.” She purchased a rare Victorian-era doll and asked him to explain its history at lunch. At the Bellini Grill they talked about old times, mostly about Molly, who had married an All-American type two classes ahead of them. Anthony traveled all over the world in connection with his business. They discovered that both evidently had both been in Florence, Italy, on the same date and even visited the same shops. He was a lifelong bachelor, explaining, “I never met anyone who compared favorably with Molly.” He made no attempt to flirt or follow up on their outing. Afterwards, Wendy couldn’t help wondering if he were gay. Perhaps part of his charm with Molly was that he wasn’t trying to paw her or get into her pants like so many others she had dated. Or maybe it simply was a case of others not measuring up against her.

“Wendy asked Jimmy’s advice on get together activities. She could imagine a long weekend of partying with Fifties music and movies such as “Rebel Without a Cause,” “Gidget,” “Rock Around the Clock,” and “King Creole” playing. She knew a promoter of Oldies concerts; maybe she could get Dion or Little Anthony and the Imperials to perform live. Her grandkids warmed to the idea, imagining hula hoop contests and dress-up contests and trivia games. Jimmy suggested flying down hoagies and steak sandwiches from Philadelphia. Better yet, Wendy replied, she could hire the owner of Geno’s in South Philly to come and make them on the spot. Those attending could plan a subsequent reunion – maybe a 50s cruise or maybe something that would take place on the same date as Sissy’s Class of 1958 fiftieth reunion. Around the pool and hot tub area they could open their yearbook and take turns recalling everything they remembered about teachers and classmates. At the 2005 reunion, which Wendy didn’t attend, Jimmy gave a short talk on memorable teachers, including exotic Rene Polsky, old maid Miss Le Van, lantern jawed coach Mr. Gilronan, dirty old H.M. Jones, gap-toothed Mr. Gebauer, and principal Norman ‘Sneaky Pete’ Jones.”

Raffle Winner

2011-09-21T11:11:00.002-05:00

Yesterday I had a nice chat with Chris Young about his excellent article comparing the efforts in Chicago to have statues honoring American Revolution heroes Haym Solomon and Nathan Hale. Interestingly, during the late nineteenth century statues went up for Civil War heroes, but then in the twentieth century the interest was in Founding Fathers. I discovered that there is at least one Haym Solomon Memorial Park in Pennsylvania and a statue dedicated to him in Los Angeles. There are several Hale statues in Connecticut as well as one in New York City.

At my suggestion Eva Mendieta, who is working on an article about a Mexican-American Benevolent Society, interviewed Oscar Sanchez (Roy Dominguez’s former chief aide) who was active in its successor, the Union Benefica Mexicana (UBM), and a past president. Oscar brought an old-timer with him, Daniel Lopez, who was very helpful. He was more comfortable speaking in Spanish, which Eva, a native of Spain, handled with ease.

Troy Davis was executed in Georgia even though seven of nine witnesses recanted and someone else confessed to the murder. What barbarism. Recently when someone during the Republican debate brought up all the people executed in Texas, the Tea Party crowd applauded, just as they did when it was mentioned that someone died due to lack of health insurance. This, rather than being a beacon for freedom, is the reality of American Exceptionalism.

At lunch with Alan Lindmark and Karl Nelson I mentioned a TV show dealing with people who hoard things until there’s virtually no room left in their house. Karl, a Psychology professor, said that it is an obsessive-compulsive disorder and that there are varying degrees and that it is similar to people taking in dozens of stray animals.

TerryAnn Defenser in University Relations informed me that I was a raffle winner at last Friday’s Back-to-School celebration. They called my name after I left. I received a tote bag containing stuff similar to what we handed out at the County Fair but also a White Sox flag and a clapper for use, I guess, at Redhawks basketball games.

At the library courtyard the Business Division distributed free hot dogs, chips, cookies, and pop – an annual tradition. Seeing former Vice Chancellor Marilyn Vasquez hard at work reminded me of when Vice Chancellor Marion Mochon had her assistant, history colleague John Haller, flipping burgers at a Faculty-Staff picnic at Wicker Park, looking for all the world like he’d rather be anywhere but there.

I made contact with Karen Freeman-Wilson, Gary’s next mayor, about interviewing her for my book “On Their Shoulders.” She was born in Gary, so I hope to learn about her parents’ influence on her. Talking to Mike Cherich about politics past and present, he said Karen was a good person who should bring solid leadership qualities to City Hall when she takes office in January. He is good friends with tamburitza maker Milan Opacich, and mentioned that whenever his Serbian mother needed a favor from the Eastern European politicians who were in power 60 years ago she would take them some of her homemade strudel.

LeeLee Minehart keeps encouraging me to add to the “tiara” story, and I keep pushing the envelope, so to speak. Here’s the latest: “As LeeLee, Sissy, and Susan touched bases to plan their trip, they discussed Wendy’s edict about no spouses and realized that they had a revolt of sorts on their hands. Their husbands had decided that they’d fly into Atlanta with them and have fun on their own. On their agenda were a ball game and Road Atlanta, a 2.5-mile oval where they’d race against one other in SuperKarts on an indoor track designed by Mario Andretti. They were planning a canoe trip down the Chattahoochee River and a concert at Centennial Olympic Park. There was talk of a visit to the Blue Flame Lounge, where one of their friends had been for a bachelor party. If you bought one of the waitresses a drink, she’d do a pole dance for you. A stripper evidently treated the groom-to-be to a lap dance, at the end of which with the quick flick of the wrist she somehow managed to remove the guy’s jockey shorts. Unbelievable. The guy still hasn’t lived it down. At least he had the sense not to enter the Blue Flame’s inner sanctum, where more than one bachelor party got out of hand and doomed the groom’s marriage.

As the big event neared, Wendy asked everyone to name the one person still alive not at the reunion that they most regretted not seeing. Without hesitation LeeLee answered “Ricky H.” As she recalled, “We were super friends in seventh and eighth grades. Then Pam T won him over, and I just had to get over it. Ah, young innocent love . . . and we move on.” LeeLee still had in her possession a crushed flower inside an invitation from a dance they attended together as well as a sterling silver charm bracelet Ricky gave her with a heart; one side says Ricky and the other says LeeLee. Looking back, she wondered whether his mother had helped him pick it out. She was quite beautiful, a romantic, and someone girls could talk to in confidence. Ricky’s father was a six-footer, so being tall and handsome was in his genes.

“Jimmy pondered answering Vince, Wendy’s high school sweetheart and first husband, who for 40 years has rebuffed all efforts to get him back to reunions. He was one of a kind and seemed to seek out other unique characters to befriend rather than being interested in fitting in with the “in” crowd. Jimmy felt honored to be his friend. For a tenth grade project they boiled a dead cat and reconstructed its skeleton only to be edged out at the science fair by Ray B, who had 21 specimens of fertilized chicken eggs, opened each day of the incubation period. During an overnight Vince introduced Jimmy to Jean Shepherd’s all-night radio show that they were able to pick up from New York. Shepherd spun tales of growing up in Northwest Indiana; Jimmy never imagined that he’d end up living there. Vince also had a deck of X-rated playing cards that educated Jimmy to the concept of oral sex as well as three-way combinations. Vince enjoyed visiting Charley Thomas, a self-professed atheist and nonconformist who lived on a small farm and had a cynical view of the world. One time Charley took Vince and Jimmy to see his sheep and quipped, “You can learn a lot about sex from them.” Charley often threatened to write a “Peyton Place” type expose of his class. “Too bad the title ‘High School Confidential’ has already been used,” he said, referring to a 1958 movie. What a shame he never followed through. Or perhaps there’s an unpublished manuscript somewhere among his remains. The old curmudgeon never came to a reunion, but in 2005, shortly after his death, a woman who worked at a hospice where he spent his final days showed up. She thought him to be a warm, wonderful person and wanted to meet some of his old friends. Truth be told, loner that he’d been, he hadn’t had more than a handful. Jimmy gave her directions so she could go past the homestead where he grew up.

“Rel put down Paula T, his old girlfriend Marianne’s cousin, as exotic and mysterious as Marianne was down-to-earth and outgoing. While Marianne had fair complexion, there was no mistaking Paula’s Italian ancestry. Once in Mrs. Vandling’s English class for a Word Power assignment Rel had to use the words “laconic” and “loquacious” in a sentence. He was tempted to use the two cousins as examples of each. While Rel was pondering his decision, his wife, who was very religious, got wind of the husbands’ tentative plans to go to Atlanta. Maybe I’ll join them, she teased. “I don’t think you’d approve of the Blue Flame Lounge,” he said. “It sounds like a perfect place to proselytize, she replied.”

A Funny Thing Happened

2011-09-19T11:48:00.003-05:00

We attended an end-of-the-summer party at Marianne Brush’s. I went undefeated in beanbag toss and bocce ball but missed not being able to have Dave as a partner. He is off crutches but still on the DL as far as sports are concerned. He did play his guitar along with John Shearer for a couple hours and sang a lot of Cracker songs plus a couple of my requests, “The Man In me” and “Werewolves of London.” He did one by Lady Gaga that Missy sang to – Voodoo Daddy’s daughter was looking good with her hair a dark purple. One of her friends taught me a drinking game they were playing with cards called Kings. I didn’t join in, to their disappointment, but it involved people drawing cards, and each number means something – like all women drink, or everyone drinks. If a seven comes up, the last person to point to the ceiling (“Heaven”) drinks. Nine is the rhyme card; you go around the circle until someone cannot come up with a word that rhymes with the previous one.

Sunday Tom won all three board games before we quit to fill out our football picks. In the afternoon we saw “A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum” at the Dunes Summer Theater in Michiana Shores. Dick Hagelberg had won four tickets at a silent auction. One of the cast members playing a courtesan was ill so a very tall, hairy man took her place. Afterwards, the four of us went to our condo’s annual picnic. It took place in a garage because of rainy conditions, but it was fun. I had a hot beef sandwich similar to what was served Friday at IUN’s end-of-the summer bash. The host and hostess (the Garzas) were very nice, gave us a tour of their unit, and promised to invite me back when he next hosts a Texas Hold-‘Em tournament. Afterwards we played a round of bridge while I watched the Eagles game (a loss) out of the corner of my eye.

LeeLee Devenney attended a celebration of the Fiftieth anniversary of the Peace Corps in D.C. Among the festivities was a dinner at the Afghan embassy. In Afghanistan she was a nurse and met husband Bob. With her encouragement I am continuing the “Missing Tiara” story, adding these paragraphs: Jay played right guard when Jimmy was center on Mr. Beck’s Hundred-Pound team. When they went against an Ambler team, half of the guys lined up against them seemed to have mustaches. Jay went on to be a starting varsity lineman even though he probably didn’t weigh 140 pounds soaking wet. At a party at Ricky’s house he set up his drum set and jammed with a couple guitar players. Jimmy recalled Sissy sitting on his lap and helping him with the cymbals. He had an ancient pre-WW II car that devoured almost as much oil as it guzzled gas. One time on a double date at the 309 Drive-In Jay made a deal with Jimmy that the couples switch seats between features. It took some maneuvering to pull that off. Jay responded to Jimmy’s nostalgic email: “Suddenly I feel thrust back in time – all these memories come flooding back.” He recalled a half-dozen guys piling into his 1940 Buick Monday afternoons, tooling down Bethlehem Pike, and picking up WIBG’s latest top 50 list at a Flourtown record store, then maybe bowling a couple games before stopping for milkshakes back in Fort Washington. For sock hops the record sstore loaned DJ Jimmy several dozen .45s on condition that the school purchase four of them. They went right into Jimmy’s collection, compensation, he rationalized, for the gas mileage.

Jay was glad Rel could make it to Wendy’s. Voted “Most Likely to Succeed,” Rel seemed destined to be a banker or CEO but first ended up in Vietnam and then opted to start a small business rather than stay on the corporate treadmill. In high school he dated an Italian-American named Marianne during an age when many thought a Catholic-Protestant romance scandalous. He had gone to grade school with Zollos, Grassos, Mallozzis, Tambourinos, and Tucciaronis and saw it as no big deal, and in fact he paved the way for others. The so-called Italian girls fascinated Jimmy when he started junior high. They seemed to have the bodies of women and weren’t shy when it came to interacting with him or anyone, including Blacks from North Hills. Jimmy had been in a project group with Marianne and loved her gravelly voice, infectious laugh, and trendy glasses. She was so un-self-conscious about wearing them that Jimmy got over his fear of being called four-eyed. They were buddies in tenth grade homeroom, and when she started going with Rel, Jimmy thought, “Good for him, he’s a lucky guy.” Once at a sock hop a crowd formed around an Italian couple dirty dancing to a Gene Vincent song, “Lotta Lovin’.” Standing next to Jimmy, Marianne said with a wink, “Wanna have a go?” Turning beet red, Jimmy was speechless. Fifty years later, on the dance floor during the reunion Jimmy mentioned the incident to Marianne, and she replied, “You should have taken me up on it.” “Better late than never,” he replied, as DJ Fred put on “Summertime Blues.” Jimmy ended up dating a Catholic girl from North Philly– Polish, not Italian – and it led to what some back then called a “mixed marriage.”

Going Away Party

2011-09-16T11:27:00.002-05:00

Chancellor Lowe a group called the Student African American Brotherhood (SAAB) hosted a farewell party for Vice Chancellor for Diversity Ken Coopwood, who accepted a position in Missouri. On hand was Fred Chary, who presented me with his recently published history of Bulgaria. It looks great and reads well. The emphasis is on the past 100 years. Historian Dolly Millender asked us to pose with Lowe and Coopwood for a photo that she intends to include in her Legends of Gary book. I was quite flattered. Former A & S Dean F.C. Richardson attended, and I told Dolly that he was a historic figure who helped start at IUN one of the first Black Studies programs in the country in 1969. Chris Young asked me if I wanted to participate in a forum about the 1962 Freedom Riders and if I would proofread his latest article. I said yes to the latter and remained noncommittal about being a panelist, suggesting most should be African Americans. During the program a SAAB member who couldn’t be present delivered via the Internet a moving poem about how important Ken was in stressing academic achievement as the best path to success. The sound and picture weren’t in sync, which was disconcerting until I closed my eyes and just listened.

Walking across campus, I spotted Geologist Bob Votaw examining rocks along a path that he had designed years before. After five years in retirement he started teaching one course a semester three years ago. I told him I was thinking of doing that. Now that his book is out, Fred Chary ought to consider conducting a seminar, too. The department hasn’t offered an Eastern Europe or Soviet Union course since he retired.

Steel Shavings checks are still coming in, the latest from the Regenstein Library of the University of Chicago. As many of my “Standing Order” people die or move away without leaving a forwarding address, libraries are my most faithful subscribers.

I’ve written a draft of a chapter about the parents of Timothy H. Ball (Hervey and Jane), Northwest Indiana’s first historian, for my “On Their Shoulders” book. The first paragraph goes something like this: “The parents of Reverent T. H. Ball, Northwest Indiana’s preeminent nineteenth-century historian, were transplanted New Englanders whose ancestors emigrated to America in the seventeenth century. Most originally came from England, but Ball’s mother’s side of the family included French Huguenots. Tenacity, Christian faith, and love of adventure abounded in both sides of the family, perhaps Hervey and Jane Ball’s most important legacies passed down to their children, including the Reverend T.H. Ball, teacher, preacher, and scribe in the service of Clio, the muse of history.”

LeeLee liked my latest tiara paragraphs and suggested I produce something on Jay and Sissy’s teen romance. So here goes: As much as he was looking forward to seeing Susan, Jay was even more eager to be with Sissy again. She was his first real love, and even though they chatted at the reunion, time went by so quickly that their conversation in retrospect seemed to lack intimacy. Even so, she had a spiritual, Earth Mother quality that was completely in keeping with his vivid memories of her and, in fact, her entire family. He first knew her as Molly’s little 13 year-old sister, a tomboy who once broke her arm falling from the shoulders of someone messing around on a bike. He was next to her in the back seat when her mother rushed her to the hospital, and her salty tears wet the arm of his shirt endearingly as she leaned against him. The experience excited him and left a lasting impression. A couple weeks later, after playing in the Schady Acres woods, the gang decided to bike to Ambler for hoagies, and he offered Sissy a ride. With her good arm around his waist and her body pressed tightly against him, she exuded a pleasant odor that reminded him of a wood nymph. During games of hide and seek in the Schades’ spacious house, she often followed him into dark places where they would hover together so close he could hear her heart beat. Three summers later when one of Jay’s friends questioned her out to the movies, he realized he was jealous. How did your date go, he asked her the next day. Uncomfortable, she replied. She confided that the guy positioned his hand on the top of her seat so that his fingers were touching her far shoulder. She sat forward in her seat, so both of them were in awkward positions the entire time.

A few weeks later Jay got up the nerve to ask Sissy if she wanted to go to Willow Grove Amusement Park with him and another couple. She exclaimed, “On a date?” Trying not to blush, he nodded. On the Ferris wheel, they were at its apex when the ride suddenly stopped to unload passengers. Noticing Sissy shiver slightly, Jay put his arm on the seat behind her and touched her shoulder with his fingers. “You’re silly,” she laughed and lowered her hand to her waist, snuggling against him. Before the summer was out, they returned twice more to Willow Grove, where on the Ferris wheel they kissed for the first time. It almost took Jay’s breath away, and he was relieved that they didn’t have to exit the ride for another five minutes. She talked him into getting tickets for the Tunnel of Love, and in the dark she made moaning sounds as if Jay were ravishing her. To his embarrassment, at the end of the ride, people in the adjacent boats clapped. Afterwards, they found a photo booth advertising three candid shots for 25 cents. Sissy made him use up a dollar’s worth of quarters mugging in front of the camera and at one point sticking her tongue in his ear. He wondered whether Sissy still had those pictures. What he wouldn’t give to see them again.

Popcorn Festival

2011-09-13T14:00:00.003-05:00

Back at South Bend to see Mary and Sonny, we visited their son-in-law Fritz on the Notre Dame campus and had lunch at a classy but reasonably priced restaurant. Fritz pointed out Father Theodore Hesburgh, the 94 year-old former President (for 35 years) of Notre Dame who was a member of the United States Civil Rights Commission for 12 years until fired by Tricky Dick Nixon. He had a bit part in the film “Rudy” and holds the Guinness World Record for most honorary degrees (150).

I intended my first Popcorn Festival in Valparaiso in order to see the band Cracker. I ran into old softball teammate Dave Serynek and, as expected, Marianne, John, and Lorraine, who’d made a sign wishing guitarist Johnny Hickman a Happy Birthday. The band rocked, and the crowd sang “Happy Birthday” to Johnny when Lorraine and Marianne unveiled the sign. The Crawpuppies opened for Cracker and were great as well. David is on the mend from being hit by a car but still on crutches and wisely skipped the event.

IUN held a memorial service on the tenth anniversary of 9/11. A surprise guest was Clarence Green, who worked for Physical Plant and just got back from Iraq. His wife Suzanne, who works for SPEA, was by his side, as were their kids. The next morning Steve McShane appeared in a Times photo of the event.

After Robin Halberstadt told me that former student Linda Parker was chair of Portage High School’s History Department I sent her volume 41 of Steel Shavings. She thanked me in an email and added: “You were one of the most informative professors that I had in my teacher preparation. Perhaps because of the content, but more because of how you taught. There was never any down time. You kept the class moving and interesting. And, you taught me a very good lesson when a student makes a mistake. I mixed up Clarence Darrow and Wm Jennings Bryan on a quiz. Your comment to me was very supportive; you said you knew that I knew the difference between the two. Of course, it was still marked wrong. I learned to support effort and never make a student feel badly when they make an error, but to always hold them accountable so they learn from their mistakes. I've always wanted to thank you for that lesson. Now, I have.”

There was a big turnout at The Patio for the History Book Club discussion of Thomas Fleming’s book on the intimate lives of the Founding Fathers. Borrowing from what a Rolling Stone reviewer said about the second to last Harry Potter movie, I said the book, though well-researched, was like a teenage girl’s padded bra, all tease and no put-out. In other words, the title was misleading when it came to sexual revelations.

I won my first Fantasy Football match thanks to a record night Monday by Patriots QB Tom Brady. Also helping my cause were Bears RB Matt Forte and the Jets’ defense.

A Deejay was playing soft rap music on campus as part of Welcome Back Week, and several coeds were doing a suggestive line dance where they leaned way back and shook their boobies and then thrust their upper bodies forward and shook their booties. Passing out free condoms was a GLBT group, and the Muslim Student Association had an active table. Women at the Student Guides table were swaying to the music, and the Anthropology Club was signing up new members.

After my fiftieth reunion I wrote a semi-fictional saga based on someone taking Wendy’s Homecoming Queen tiara that she had brought with her, a mystery solved by one Captain Cardinal who in some ways resembled athletic star Percy Herder. Several people expressed the hope that I’d write an “all-encompassing” epilog, so here goes: Around the time he was planning a get together with classmates Rel and Jay in Gainesville, Jimmy heard that LeeLee, Sissy, and Captain Cardinal were delivering the tiara to Wendy in person at her Georgia plantation and that others were welcome to join them. Jimmy quickly convinced Rel and Jay to accept the invitation. Meanwhile, Susan decided to be part of LeeLee’s entourage. She still felt slightly regretful about skipping the reunion and was intrigued at the prospect of seeing Jay, whom she dated, and Rel, whom she had had a secret crush on, like many girls in her class. Delighted at the burgeoning number of guests, Wendy sent out a group email laying down two ground rules: no spouses but no sex. In response Captain Cardinal promised to leave his Viagra at home. Jimmy wondered if the Captain would be wearing his famous tiger-striped skivvies. Informing Jay that Susan was coming, he reminded him that they had double-dated to a ninth grade dance and afterwards Jay bragged that he had managed to rest a hand on Susan’s bare knee.

In school after Susan and two of her close friends were nicknamed the “Three Sues,” she started going by her given first name and Sue H became Suzi. She and Jimmy often were together at Terry and Judy’s, and both had become loosened up by the counter-culture phenomenon of the late-Sixties. At the 1990 reunion Jimmy was shocked but delighted when Susan asked him to dance to “Proud Mary.” They seemed to hit it off and traded anecdotes that the other had long forgotten. Jimmy recalled how disappointed she was one Christmas when her main present was a clock. He was interested to hear that her parents were political Lefties, an often persecuted group he greatly admired. “They probably voted for Henry Wallace in 1948,” he said. “They knew Henry Wallace,” she replied. Through Terry they had kept up on what each other was doing. Learning that Susan’s daughter was, like himself, a social historian, he sent along copies of a magazine that he edited for her to pass along. When Susan described doing physical labor on rental units, he imagined her looking like Meryl Streep in “Momma Mia!”

Accident

2011-09-07T09:21:00.002-05:00

I cancelled my trip to Cristin Donahue’s wedding in Philadelphia after Dave got struck by a car while coaching during a tennis match at East Chicago Central. He was talking with a player who had just finished his match when someone hit the gas instead of the brake and pinned him next to a utility pole. His leg swelled up to twice its size due to internal bleeding and an emergency operation took place. Fortunately no vein or artery was affected, and most of the blood was near the surface, so the surgery wasn’t as invasive as first feared. He got out of the hospital Sunday afternoon and though in much pain is on the mend.

I got a chance to join the Labor Day week-end gathering of Toni’s family in South Bend. The day before Alissa and Josh were at the Notre Dame game when lightning struck right after authorities had evacuated the stands. In Ann Arbor the Michigan game was cancelled due to lightning, the first time ever. Mother nature is pounding the East Coast with rain and fires have been devastating Texas due to draught conditions.

Tuesday I interviewed Congressman Peter Visclosky about his parents for my forthcoming book tentatively called “On Their Shoulders.” Beforehand, Chancellor Lowe showed him the new computer facilities in the library. Pete’s father was mayor of Gary for a year after popular boss George Chacharis went to prison. During the Depression he quit school to work at a CCC camp after his father died. He evidently was a great athlete and in the navy during WW II. Later the Chancellor mentioned meeting with Richard Hatcher and that my name came up.

The final Thrill of the Grill featured Chad Clifford and Aaron Hedges of the Crawpuppies, who were great doing two acoustic sets. I gave Chad, a former student, volume 41 (he’s in it four times), and he gave me their new CD. In addition to familiar songs by Dylan, Lennon, Petty, Sting, and the like, they did the original song “We,” which sounds a little like the Jayhawks. Back home, popped a beer and was impressed with how great their CD sounded. They’re opening for Cracker at Valpo’s Popcorn Fest Saturday.

With help from Toni and Phil I was at the ESPN site where our Fantasy Football draft took place. Drafting fifth in the first round I took running back ,Jamal Charles; I also have Matt Forte and Andre Johnson, among others.

Frank Caucci

2011-09-01T12:17:00.001-05:00

I attended a memorial service for IUN professor Frank Caucci, who died unexpectedly at the age of 58. He taught French and Canadian Studies for many years in the Modern Languages Department before making a career change into Social Work. He was a beautiful man both physically and spiritually whose most recent research project had to do with Argentineans who were murdered, tortured or disappeared during a rightwing dictatorship. An overflow audience of over a hundred heard words of remembrance from faculty bigwigs as well as colleagues who knew him well. I sat between Chris Young and Laura Kittle and spotted Fred and Diane Chary a few rows up. His children Matthew and Emmanuelle were in attendance as was his longtime life partner Brian Bates. English department members admitted that Frank was probably more widely read than they were, and Frank developed a Literature course on gay novels. His social work included involvement with homeless men as well as transgendered folks. He evidently was a rigorous teacher but much beloved with students. On the program was this Carl Jung quote: “An understanding heart is everything in a teacher and cannot be esteemed highly enough. One looks back with appreciation to the brilliant teachers but with gratitude to those who touched our human feeling.”

Engineers won 5 of 7 points for the second week in a row, but I left hobbling after falling and twisting my ankle trying to apply body English on a shot for the 4-7 pins to pick up a spare. I converted it but caught my right foot under the ball return. It’s swollen and my left elbow also hurts.

Got an email from nephew Joe recommending a Finnish metal band called Amorphis. Replied that I listened to "Black Winter Day,""Battle for Light," and "The Beginning of Times" on YouTube and will see if
the Best Buy in my neighborhood carries any of their CDs.

Suzanna sent me a photo on some of the tomatoes and corn from her ample garden along with some of her favorite parts of volume 41, including a Gilbert Laue poem, Raoul’s moment of truth in Vietnam upon making eye contract with an elderly Vietnamese woman who reminded him of his grandmother, and the anecdote about niece Lisa’s daughter Grace putting toothpaste in an Oreo cookie. She was worried about two of her kids affected by the flood and a son in Texas driving around in a truck without air conditioning in 100+ weather. I replied: Thanks for such a flattering and informative letter. We are having beautiful weather here – I feel so sorry for those in the Eastern flood zones and those sweltering in the Southwest. I’m going to a wedding in Philly on Saturday (my niece and god-daughter Cristin) at the same church – St. Adelbert’s – where Toni and I tied the knot in 1965. I wish we lived near you – we’d be hinting around for green tomatoes to fry up. Your photo, “A little bit corny,” looks delicious. My niece Grace in South Bend – the “mint” cookie trickster – is quite a character. Later I write about how she enjoyed hugging her dad and getting the front of his clothes wet after just coming out of a swimming pool and how she figured out how to open our cookie jar without it making a sound. The Gilbert Laue poems remind me of our days living within the National Lakeshore. Even more poignant to me are the Gary poems of John Sheehan on page 18. He was a former priest and gentle soul who married a Black woman and after she died a white woman (I think the same was true for Frederick Douglass). I’m reading Kurt Vonnegut’s “A Man without a Country.” He writes: “I know what women want: a whole lot of people to talk to. What do men want? They want a lot of pals, and they wish people wouldn’t get so mad at them.”

The Archives was busy this morning with Ray Boomhower back working with the Jim Jontz papers and volunteers working next store. Roy Dominguez dropped in with a few changes to his autobiography. He has decided to run for county commissioner, which pleases me. He is a dedicated public servant who loves the political arena.

Haymarket

2011-08-29T14:59:00.003-05:00

On Roger Ebert’s recommendation I saw “Our Idiot Brother" starring Paul Rudd as Ned, a sweet idealist who cannot resist telling the truth even if it gets him in trouble and embarrasses his pretentious sisters. When a cop in uniform gives him a sob story and wants some pot, he tries to give the man some and gets arrested for his trouble. Later when he tells his parole officer he was so stressed out he smoked a joint, he goes back into the slammer. A couple talk him into a three-way and when he can’t go through with it, he worries that maybe he’s a homophobe. He has a dog named Willie Nelson that befriends one called Dolly Parton.

Speaking of weird dog names, Alissa, boyfriend Josh, and new dog Jerry Seinfeld showed up for breakfast Saturday on their way to a 50th-anniversary party for her maternal grandparents Donna and Bob. Great to see them. Her mom Beth dropped in the day before.

I made lunch for former student Sam Barnett, who brought over a special issue of “AREA Chicago” that he co-edited about the Haymarket Riot and its aftermath. It includes several oral histories that he did. I gave him volume 41 of Steel Shavings that he raved about.

Sunday’s Little League World Series final, won by a California team over Japan, was delayed a couple hours because of Hurricane Irene. Brent Musburger did a good job but sidekick Orel Hershiser was a dud as an analyst. The Japanese team ran a brilliant play, bunting with a man on first and then having the runner go on to third since the infielders were all out of position to cover the base. Orel never commented on it. Similarly, when a California player drove in the winning run a hard single to center with the bases loaded, there was no coverage of whether the runners on first and second touched second and third base – had they not, a force-out would have negated the run.

Today’s the beginning of the Fall semester, and the campus was bustling. It being taco day at the cafeteria, I indulged and had two of them. Jean Poulard was complaining that they kick him out of his SPEA office and exiled him to the fourth floor of Lindenwood.

I returned Doctorow’s “The March” and picked up Kurt Vonnegut’s “A Man Without a Country,” which came out in 2005. He wrote: “The last thing I ever wanted was to be alive when the three most powerful people on the whole planet would be named Bush, Dick, and Colon. In former V-P Cheney’s new book “In MY Time” the Dick takes credit for preventing more attacks on America after 9/11 and slams Secretary of State Powell for not being more of a War Hawk. Vonnegut also writes: “Socialism is no more an evil word than Christianity. Socialism no more prescribed Joseph Stalin and his secret police and shuttered churches than Christianity prescribed the Spanish Inquisition. Both, in fact, prescribe a society dedicated to the proposition that all men, women, and children are created equal and shall not starve.”

Talked to Gaard Logan about Patti Smith’s memoir “Just Kids” about her friendship with artist Robert Mapplethorpe. They met in 1967 and lived together at the Chelsea Hotel. They were lovers until Mapplethorpe realized he was gay and friends thereafter. She compares him to a fragile emerald bird and says she was his model and he was her muse. He took the photograph that was the album cover for “Horses,” fell under the spell of Andy Warhol (whom Patti distrusted) and died of AIDS in 1989.

Another book reviewed in Magill’s (by John Nizalowski of Mesa State) is “Jack Kerouac and Allen Ginsberg: The Letters.” Ginsberg flowered after publication of his Beat poem “Howl” while Kerouac sank into oblivion shortly after publication of “On the Road.”

Three longtime IUN staff members are retiring, secretary Rhoda Burson, Janet Tayler from Duplicating and Marianne Malyj from Purchasing. All are good people and will be missed.

Mexican American baseball

2011-08-25T10:04:00.002-05:00

Richard Santillan sent me a book about Mexican American baseball that includes two great photos of teams from the Indiana harbor section of East Chicago. We have been corresponding for the past month after I asked if he could send the footnotes and bibliography for his PhD dissertation (which we have in the Archives) about Latinos in the Midwest. I have been able to collect a half-dozen of his scholarly articles for the Archives and put him and John Fraire, whose working on Region Latino teams, in touch with each other. I sent Richard a copy of volume 41 and said it contained info about “Maria’s Journey” and Sheriff Dominguez’s forthcoming book “Valor.”

I finished watching the mini-series “Mildred Pierce.” I can see why the original movie was considered film noire, and Kate Winslet at times bears a strong resemblance to Joan Crawford, who was in the original. I asked Alan Barr if he saw the HBO production. He said he doesn’t have cable but liked the original as well as my suggestion that it might be a possibility for his film course.

Tuesday’s Thrill of the Grill was a bit of a disappointment since a rainstorm forced it inside, cutting down attendance. Singer Danica Holmes was very good, but Tamarack lounge isn’t as good acoustically as outdoors would have been. I have been calling event coordinator TerryAnn Defenser “Linda” for the past year until finally being set straight. She is really nice and after I apologized said no problem.

I finished Thomas Flemings’ “Intimate Lives of Our Founding Fathers,” the selction for September’s book club. It really isn’t that intimate, denigrating stories that George Washington was banging his neighbor the night before he died and doubting that slave Sally Hemmings was Jefferson’s mistress and bore him children. Franklin was supposedly just flirting with those French women. The only real rake, Fleming believes, was Hamilton.

After two bad practice outings, I rolled a 201 in my first game of the new bowling season. Captain Bill Batalis claims he is officially retired, but we have two new bowlers, John Bulot (a substitute last year) and his friend Duke. Both bowled last night but they seem content to alternate when our regulars are back. I gave volume 41 to Cressmoor Lanes owner Jim Fowble, whose init as is his son Dave and father William (who recalled in a book put out by the Hobart Historical Society that he watched silent cartoons at the Strand Theater while Ted Coons played the pipe organ.

Filmmaker Alex Semchuck interviewed me for almost an hour about the history and future of Gary. He teaches part-time in the Department of Communication. After I answered all his questions, he asked if I had anything to add. I told him he should not forget about Latinos living in Gary and their potential contributions to turning the city around.

We are enjoying fresh tomatoes from our neighbor Gina’s garden as well as some our neighbor Joan gave us from her daughter’s garden. Gina has a stand by her street with a scale and a jar for money from customers. She charges a dollar a pound. She also gave Toni some delicious homemade sweet pickles.

An old friend, Sheila Hamanaka, is in town from new York City to see her son and spent several hours at the condo with her friend Russell, a Philosophy professor. We talked politics and told anecdotes about when she was a neighbor of ours. After a judge screwed her over during a custody fight, I wrote a letter to the judge appealing to him to reconsider, and the arrogant S.O.B. contacted IUN’s Chancellor Orescanin trying (unsuccessfully) to get me in trouble.

Magill's Annual

2011-08-19T10:37:00.002-05:00

Magill’s two-volume 2011 Literary Annual arrived in the mail, containing my reviews of the NASCAR and Comanche books. Last month the company that took over the enterprise announced that reviewers were no longer receiving hard copies but instead a web site link where for a limited amount of time we could download stuff. I protested that at the time I agreed to do the 2,000-word reviews the terms included remuneration of $100 (an amount that has remained constant for 30 years) plus the two volumes, which include first-rate summaries of many worthy books I never got to read. While I agreed that in the future, the company could change the rules, I wanted the books. Obviously, they complied. I had begun to think I had heard the last of them. Obama is on the cover. One excellent reviews, of “The Grand Design,” makes Stephen Hawking’s M (multiverse) theory semi-understandable. Two reviewed novels that I have read include “Karl Marlantes’ “Matterhorn” (about Vietnam) and Anne Tyler’s “Noah’s Compass” (about a 60 year-old laid-off teacher). Paul Kern would probably enjoy the review of Peter Krentz’s “The Battle of Marathon,” and Ron Cohen would enjoy seeing the review of Sean Wilentz’s “Bob Dylan in America.”

Fitting in with the theme of “On Their Shoulders” (the subject, perhaps, of my next book) is Condoleeza Rice’s “Extraordinary, Ordinary People: A Memoir of Family.” Rice’s parents, John and Angelena, were both teachers who hoped their daughter would be a professional pianist (her name is a take-off on the Italian musical term “con dolcezza,” meaning with sweetness). One of Angelena’s students was future baseball Hall of Famer Willie Mays. John was also pastor of a Black middle-class congregation in Birmingham, Alabama. When he tried to register to voteas a Democrat in 1952, he was asked to guess how many beans were in a jar. Reviewer Timothy Lane (no relation) writes: “After being informed that the Republicans had a more reasonable literacy test, he registered and remained one the rest of his life.” While teaching a course on “The Black Experience in America,” first at Stillman College in Tuscaloosa and then at Denver University, he asked his friend Stokely Carmichael to speak. If I do a book about Region people, maybe in the intro I could make reference to people like Marvella Bayh and Condy.

I’ve been boning up on the Carpatho Rusyns, whom I’ll be talking about on October 22, although the organizers mainly want me to describe the city of Gary in 1911 (five years after its birth) when two Orthodox churches were founded. I emailed Rick Busse inquiring about the difference between Eastern Orthodox and Byzantine churches and discovered that he was at the Indiana State Fair with his fried vegetable trailer. He was there last Saturday when the stage collapsed, killing five people and said it was quite a scene.

Texas governor Rick Perry has been stealing Michele Bachman’s thunder with idiotic statements denying global warming and defending the teaching of creationism. He once suggested that Texas would be better off seceding from the union if the “socialistic” trends in Washington weren’t reversed. Conan O’Brien mocked Michelle’s latest gaffe, asking a crowd to wish Elvis a Happy Birthday even though it was on the day “The King” died. He added that Bachman subsequently apologized to the entire Costello family.

If I can find the money, I’m thinking about making volume 42 of Steel Shavings about pioneer days in the Region. One possibility, if I can find it, is reprinting a volume about early Gary settlers called “Papers of Various Hands.” Another idea – a volume dealing with the writings of nineteenth-century preacher, teacher, and historian Timothy Ball. We have several of his books about the origins of Lake County; in fact, I used a couple excerpts in the Cedar Lake issue. Maybe I could get Chris Young to be a co-editor.

Thrill of the grill

2011-08-15T10:50:00.001-05:00

Last week’s Thrill of the Grill, organized by Linda Sharma and held in the outside courtyard adjacent to IUN’s library, featured tacos and veggie kabobs plus music by My Brothers salsa band. Millerite Karren Lee accepted my invitation to tour the Archives beforehand – she has been in numerous activist groups and is the niece of civil rights advocate George Neagu, whose collection we’d like to expand and update. I showed her the chapter in “Peopling Indiana” about Romanians written by Mary Leuca, a friend of hers, and how to access the Archives online. Outside we ran into Mike Olszanski, my co-editor for “Steelworkers Fight Back,” who works for Labor Studies and whom she had not seen since the days of the Bailly Alliance. I also introduced her to Anne Balay, who had just finished a Fall semester syllabus for a class on American novels, 1865-1914. She’s using two of my favorites, Edith Wharton’s “House of Mirth” and Theodore Dreiser’s “Sister Carrie.” A neighbor of Karren’s and my old softball teammate, Omar Farag, booked the salsa band, and it was fun chatting with him. Barbara Cope also showed up at my suggestion for a copy of volume 41. Both she, husband Garrett (who calls me Jim-Bob) and Garrett, Jr., are listed in the index.

High school classmate Alice Ottinger Corman thanked me for volume 41. At the reunion she recalled that my parents (Midge and Vic) had put up Japanese lanterns for a party she’d attended, something I’d forgotten. Her dad had been Fort Washington’s chief of police. I mentioned that he had once interrupted me parking in a long driveway leading to the Van Sant farm. He once picked her up at school and then set off in chase of a speeder. Mortified, she ducked below the window. In volume 41 I wrote that after I fast-danced with her to “Bristol Stomp,” Jimmy Coombs (the coolest guy in our class) gave us the thumbs up. In her email Alice wrote: “I agree, our dance was a fun time, and we sure entertained Jimmy Coombs.”

Kevin Nevers of the “Chesterton Tribune” interviewed me for 90 minutes about volume 41 at the request of editor David Canright, who once was a summer student of mine. Kevin noted that we listened to the same music stations and seemed surprised that I wrote about my bowling league, the Electrical Engineers. We really hit it off – I just hope I wasn’t too indiscreet about my “radiclib” politics (as a-hole former Vice-President Spiro Agnew put it shortly before leaving office in disgrace). We chatted at the Red Cup deli in downtown Chesterton. I brought home a Reuben sandwich for Toni, who liked it only wished it contained more slices of corn beef.

Last Saturday Becca and James were part of a production at the Star Plaza Theater that highlighted excerpts of recent area plays performed at Merrillville’s Reinhart Theater, the Towle Theater in Hammond, and the Star Plaza. They were in several “Les Miserables” numbers, and Becca had several solo lines in a reprise of a song from “Annie.” We also got to see several songs from “Hair Spray,” one of Toni’s favorites. Afterwards Jacki Snow came up to me. She was a favorite student of mine who had been part of my Cedar Lake Group during the mid-Nineties. She has a 15 year-old daughter who was in the cast of “Hair Spray.” Angie, Toni, and the kids rushed off for what was to have been the final performance of “Disney under the Stars,” but it was postponed until Sunday due to a rainstorm.

Sunday I went two of five gaming, edging Tom pout in St. Pete and Dave in Shark. Had no interest in the PGA tournament since Tiger failed to make the cut, so channel-switched between Cubs and Sox, who both won. Managed to stay up for the new “Curb Your Enthusiasm” episode, entitled “The Hero.” After accidentally tripping an obnoxious man on a flight to New York while coming out of the bathroom, he really does something to impress a woman he is interested in, hitting a mugger with a hard loaf of bread on the subway. The plot line revolves around Larry’s shoelaces being needlessly long.

Front Porch

2011-08-08T13:21:00.004-05:00

“Will my kids be proud or think their old man is really a square?
When they’re out having fun, will I still wanna have my share?”
“When I Grow Up,” Beach Boys

Friday evening I went to the Front Porch, a coffeehouse in Valpo that has a long history, to see Ron Cohen’s friend from England Will Kaufman put on a delightfully professional performance of Woody Guthrie songs and commentary. He has a new book out stressing Woody’s hatred of capitalism entitled “Woody Guthrie, American Radical.” The IUN contingent included Librarian Anne Koehler and Sociologist Tanice Foltz. Chad Cifford of the Crawpuppies now owns the Front Porch and gives guitar lessons there. He helped set up the sound system and asked whether son Dave is still with a band. Turns out he taught Blues Cruise prodigy Steve how to play the guitar when he was about ten years old.

I’ve discovered the TV series “Men of a Certain Age” On Demand with Ray Romano and watched several episodes during the weekend. One of Ray’s buddies (Terry) is an aging stud actor and the other an overweight African-American car salesman. None is without flaws – Ray is separate, for instance, and has a gambling problem. At the beginning of the show are clips of kids playing accompanied by the Beach Boys song “When I Grow Up To Be a Man” (one of my favorites).

James and Rebecca stayed overnight Thursday and Friday because Angie and Dave had to stay late after “Disney Under the Stars” to put the sound equipment away. James suggested I take my Pet Detective stories that I made up for our car rides to Kids College last summer and turn them into a book.

Saturday was Paul Kaczocha’s sixtieth birthday party. Food included chicken and pizza, as well as Cole slaw and salad. I gave Paul a copy of volume 41, which he appears in (I mentioned being at his place for a picnic a year ago). Other friends in attendance included Ed and Monica Johnston and Alice Bush with son Shane. Alice told some hilarious stories about Shane, who is in his last year of residency at a Chicago hospital.

Sunday after gaming (I was one for four, prevailing in Acquire) the Hagelbergs took us to the musical “Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde at Valpo’s Memorial Opera House. The acting and music were spectacular, but it was terribly bloody. Two people behind me were letting out groans each time someone was murdered.

I received an invitation to speak at an affair in October marking the hundredth anniversary of the founding of a Carpatho-Rusyn Church. I delayed giving a reply, feeling inadequate for the job, but have been reading up on the Rusyns (from Slovakia and sometimes called Ruthenians) and will do it if they haven’t found someone else.

Got a nice long email from Paul Kern praising volume 41 and reminiscing about some of our old students with whom I’m still in touch. He mentioned that Sarah McColly once knitted him a wool muffler.

Suzanna sent me a photo of herself in an Amish style dress she sewed for herself standing in front of her garden. The tomatoes appear to still be green but the corn seems to be taller than she is. I emailed her that she looked really fetching. She hates any thing remotely like flirting.

Got several checks for volume 41, including one from Chicago’s Newberry Library, along with a couple returned packages from folks who have either died or moved away. My subscription list is dwindling.

English professor William Buckley sent me a poem entitled “Another Story as our Bridges Collapse” about the effect of de-industrialization on one of his neighbors. Had I had it before finishing volume 41, I would have included it. I’ve used his poems in both my Nineties issue and in “Ides of March 2003.” He also gave me a copy of his 2005 volume “Athena Comes to Gary.”

After running into Donn Gobbe at the P-T tennis tournament and offering to critique his PhD thesis on the history of the women’s tennis tour, I received a chapter covering the early 1970s. Interestingly, the tour was sponsored by Philip Morris, manufacturers of Virginia Slims cigarettes. Its motto: “You’ve come a long way, baby.” Donn mentioned that the sponsorship was controversial since cancer sticks and women’s athletics don’t go together, but commercialism won out in the end.

Disney under the Stars

2011-08-05T11:15:00.000-05:00

Grandkids James and Rebecca sang and danced in a production of “Disney Under the Stars” in Highland, Indiana. The evening weather was perfect, and they both shined, especially in introducing a couple acts. Dave and Angie were in charge of the sound system, and Marianne Brush brought her dog and several friends to opening night. Sitting behind us and recognizing me was State Representative Linda C. Lawson, a former Hammond policewoman who took a class of mine 12 years ago. I told her my new Shavings contained two photos of her returning from Illinois after the Democratic delegation of lawmakers stayed away for six weeks in order to defeat various anti-union measures being pushed by Republicans. Linda told me she kept a journal during her stay in Illinois, and I expressed keen interest in seeing it and maybe starting a Linda Lawson Archives collection. I mailed her volume 31 as well as my Nineties issues, “Shards and Midden Heaps,” which includes an account of Linda’s first year as a legislator as well as an article she did about Meg Renslow, who was teaching at Hammond Eggers in 1998 but is now with IUN’s Education division. Small world.

John Fraire thanked me for getting him in touch with historian Richard Santillan. They are both interested in Mexican-American baseball teams. Coincidentally, I was walking across campus and ran into Joseph Flores, who heads the Upward Bound program at Purdue Cal. I happened to have a copy of volume 41 and gave it to him after learning that he has been working on a family history for over 15 years.

Old high school classmate Pat Zollo posted on Facebook a hatchet job video someone put together on Snopes.com about a Tacoma housing project called Salishan. It claimed it was set up by the Social Security administration for illegal immigrants, who get subsidies totaling $2,600 plus all sorts of other benefits. A site called The News Tribune rebutted the falsehoods, mentioning that it was built with Hope VI HUD funds, that 97 percent of residents are citizens, and that people with refugee status get at most about a thousand dollars in subsidies a month.

Marvella

2011-08-02T13:10:00.000-05:00

I started, “Marvella,” a book Sheriff Dominguez recommended about Evan Bayh’s mother (and the wife of Senator Birch Bayh, my all-time favorite legislator), who died of cancer at the age of 46. By all accounts she was a delightful woman who was born on a hardscrabble farm in Oklahoma during the Depression. I recently finished “Campy,” about Dodger catcher Roy Campanella who was paralyzed in a car crash at age 35. He grew up in a Philadelphia ghetto nicknamed Nicetown. His dad was Italian, something I should have guessed from the name.

Two people in recent days claimed I looked like novelist Stephen King. From his photos I don’t see the resemblance unless it is the hair.

Several people want me to do a Steel Shavings on the history of theater in Gary to coincide with the fiftieth anniversary of IUN’s Theater Northwest. I’ll think about it but will need funding to get it in print.

The Post-Trib front-page story by Jerry Davich was a bout a Vietnam vet who claimed the government was screwing him out of his disability pay. Later on Davich’s website he told readers that the guy was at least partially a fraud – that he had never, for instance, been a POW. Somebody was all set to have a fundraiser for him. Sad story, but kudos to Davich for not hiding the truth once he found out about it.

A Chicago grad student from Chicago is supposed to interview me this afternoon about urban planning in Gary. The Archives is bustling with several people who are doing regional pictorial histories for Arcadia Press. I was able to locate a scholar, Richard Santillan, who donated his 1994 dissertation about Latinos in the Midwest, to the Archives. Turns out he just finished an Arcadia Press book about Mexican American baseball in Los Angeles.

Les Miserables

2011-08-01T13:00:00.000-05:00

We and the Hegelbergs went to the Reinhart Theater to see James and Becca in the musical Les Miserables. Three generations of Reinharts were involved in the production, from the orchestra conductor to the directors to a youngster who played Gavroche. In 1954 Jerry Reinhart started out as choral director at Merrillville High School and was responsible for starting the Ross Music Theater, which puts on tywo shows each summer. Son Michael and his wife Melinda started M and M Productions, which my grandkids have been involved with in various capacities. This was the fifth time Dick has seen Les Miserables, including with us in Chicago, and the young actors were every bit as good as the performance we saw in Chicago. The cast was about half African American, reflective of the growing Black population in Merrillville, including most of the main roles. The guy who played Jean Valjean was unbelievably talented although his make-up made him look a little like the Caveman character on TV commercials. Likewise the actress who played Cosette’s mother Fantine had a voice that was little short of thrilling. Even though the show was three hours long, it kept my attention like none I’ve seen in many a moon.

My first orders for volume 41 of Steel Shavings are coming in. Ray Smock paid me the ultimate compliment in claiming I was keeping the spirit of Jean Shepherd alive. A copy of David Goldfield’s Journal of Urban History arrived with an article I helped critique by Paul O’Hara about the city of Gary. It ends with a quote from “Gary’s First Hundred Years.” Janet Bayer was in to see Alice Bush and stayed with us Saturday night. We are all excited that daughter Kirsten has moved back to Indy – talk of Thanksgiving dinner there in November.

Anniversaries

2011-07-27T11:21:00.000-05:00

Last Saturday Ed and Monica Johnston celebrated their fortieth wedding anniversary with an afternoon party put together by son Padraig. Numerous friends attended, including Paul and Jean Kaczoha, Tom Serynek and Jean Campbell, and the Gallers. Ed thanked family, old froiends, bridge group members, and neighbors for coming. I was waiting for him to ask old Movement people to stand but he skipped that group. Someone asked how long Toni and I had been married. Answer: 46 years.

Phil was home for his twenty-fifth high school reunion and found time to play tennis with Dave and game with us Sunday morning.

Mailed out volume 41 to my Steel Shavings subscribers and a few others who have been supportive of my blog efforts. I also took some to the IUN Bookstore and gave copies to folks who moved the boxes from the mailroom to my cage. First reaction is positive: librarian Anne Koehler liked the musical lyrics that served as introductions, and External Relations director Tim Weidmann called it very interesting and liked my style of doing history.

The Archives was full yesterday with four volunteers doing their thing, TRACES editor Ray Boomhower up from Indy researching former Congressman Jim Jontz, Dolly Millender working on a Legends of Gary book, two young people seeking info on the Berkheimer Heating and Cooling Company (in business almost a hundred years), and a young woman working on a dissertation about Latinos. At noon I took Boomhower outsdide for the Thrill of the Grill lunch on the courtyard featuring music by Dave Alamillo, who was excellent singing Jimmy Buffett, Cat Stevens, and Carlos Santana tunes, among others. Old buddy Omar Farag was in charge of entertainment, and we had a blast reliving old softball memories. I showed him volume 41 that contains a photo of him and brother Henry with Bo Diddley and the Crystals.

I was able to get some great photos for my article on Richard Hatcher’s father Carlton from nephew Charles Wise and Laura Shields of the Michigan City Old Lighthouse Museum. Combining them with others from daughter Gladys Givan, I got Steve McShane to burn them onto a CD for Boomhower, who will put the article in the Winter TRACES issue.

Road Trip

2011-07-11T14:12:00.001-05:00

Sheriff Roy Dominguez and I traveled to Bloomington last week to meet with two IU Press editors plus a marketing person and photo production coordinator. He picked me up in front of IUN’s library and we arrived at a motel his wife had booked us into around 10:30 p.m. after stops at Arby’s and Starbucks. After eating breakfast at a t diner that Roy frequented while a cadet in training, we arrived at the century-old publishing house building at Tenth and Morton. The editors were very enthusiastic about the book and assured us it would have a jacket, contain many pages of photos, and be out by early spring. Reviewing the 75 photos gave Roy a chance to tell some anecdotes, and he was impressive as always, coming off as sincere, friendly, and ready to promote the book actively. The meeting was a great success, with Roy impressed with the Press and vice versa.

I finished Ted Kennedy’s autobiography “True Compass” (more candid than I had expected) and checked out Hampton Sides’ “Hellhound on His Trail,” Monday’s History Book Club selection about the hunt for Martin Luther King’s killer, James Earl Ray. J Edgar Hoover and Jesse Jackson come off poorly. Ron Cohen stopped by and mentioned that Nancy is also reading “Hellhound on his Trail.” We talked about the multi-million dollar effort to spruce up the Marquette Park area and some of the controversy over the plans. One dispute: whether to have the road remain two lanes or to put in a walking and bicycle lane in place of one of them.

TRACES accepted my article on Carlton Hatcher (Richard’s father) for its Winter 2012 issue. My next task: to obtain photos of Michigan City, especially the waterfront area in the 1920s and 1930s.

I got a nice email from Paul O’Hara thanking me for helping him improve the quality of his book on Gary. An article of his appeared in the march 2011 issue of the Journal of Urban History entitled “’The Very Model of Modern Urban Decay’: Outsiders’ narratives of Industry and Urban Decline in Gary, Indiana.” It was my suggestion to use the phrase “Outsiders’ Narratives.”

At the Chicago Street Theater we and the Hagelbergs saw Neil Simon’s “Fools,” one of the playwright’s first efforts written in 1961 while going through a divorce. Having agreed to give his ex-wife the proceeds from his next play, he allegedly hoped it would be a flop. In fact, it lasted only 40 days on Broadway. It is set in a fictitious Ukrainian village where a curse has supposedly left everyone a stupid fool. It was mildly clever, but I rarely like nonmusical productions.

We are scheduled to see Les Miserables (Becca and James are in the cast) the last Sunday in July, necessitating a switch in when I work the Porter County Faair. My partner, Stela Pudar Hozo was willing to work on a Thursday afternoon instead, so the tradition continues.

Ken Applehans

2011-07-05T16:53:00.001-05:00

I’ve neglected my blog, but volume 41 of Steel Shavings is “in the can” and should come out in about a week. Entitled “Calumet Region Connections,” it combines excerpts of my blog with several dozen “Ides of March 2011” journals. The cover is bright pink and includes photos of unionists rallying in Indianapolis, folks marching in a Gary Gay pride parade, Gary’s incoming and outgoing mayor, and me with Sheriff Roy Dominguez.

I recently spent a week in San Diego and Palm Springs, California, with Phil and Miranda in connection with my mother’s ninety-fifth birthday. One highlight was Sea World, where prior to the sea lion show a comedian who called himself Biff put on a hilarious 20-minute routine that included dancing and mingling with the crowd.

At an IUN cookout I ran into Omar Farag, whose OMAR PRESENTS production company booked the entertainment, two guys playing soulful background music. I mentioned that his brother Henry included a profile on Spaniels singer Pookie Hudson in his “Ides” journal, and Omar recalled Pookie telling about a time when the Spaniels were driving in the South on the way to a gig when stopped by local police. When the cops learned they were entertainers, they made them dance, Stepin Fetchit style, before letting them go on their way. How despicable.

Sheriff John Buncich is trying his best to sully the reputation of his predecessor, feeding rumors and innuendoes to a newspaper columnist. A decade ago when Buncich was first in office, he got so upset at a reporter investigating his administration that he had officers go to the newspaper office and handcuff the guy on trumped up charges.

My good friend Ken Applehans, who had inoperable cancer, passed away. Scores of friends, relatives, and comrades crowded into the Beach Café dining room last Saturday for a memorial service. His wife Alice Bush and three sons delivered moving tributes that had everyone both laughing and crying. Several unionists who worked at Pullman Standard with him told heartwarming stories. I mentioned how he and Alice had invited us to stay with them for a month following a 2000 home invasion, even giving up their bedroom, claiming they fell asleep in the living room most of the time anyway. The political discussions we had each morning and evening re-enforced my belief that a radical change in our economic system was necessary if our country was to live up to its democratic ideals. I mentioned his love of cats and that normally when I’d end our phone conversation by saying “I love you,” he’d reply “Same here” but the last time he said, “I love you, too, Jimmy.”

Went to a picnic Sunday at Kevin and Tina Horn’s. Kevin’s mom came across my name on Google while looking for some information about a drive-in she worked at that was located at Fifth and Louisiana in Gary near Emerson School. The more famous Ted’s Drive-In was located about a mile to the east where Routes 12 and 20 came together near Aetna. Monday was an eleventh birthday party for James featuring good food and outdoor croquet and bean bag toss. Dave was the champ in both with me a close second.

Transamerica

2011-05-31T09:09:00.000-05:00

In line at the grocery store, two young women didn’t have the Jewel discount card, so I asked whether they could use mine. The checkout guy said, “Sure, we’ll just consider you their grandfather.” How about “father?” I retorted. He apologized, and I said I was just joking and actually had a granddaughter their age. Still it was a wake up call.

Watched two good movies On Demand, “Lost in Translation” with Bill Murray going through a midlife crisis, and “Transamerica” with “Desperate Housewife” star Felicity Huffman doing an amazing job playing a person wanting to have a sex change to become a woman and going on a cross-country road trip with her 17 year-old pimp son whom she bails out of a New York jail who does not realize she is his father.

Steel Shavings, volume 41

2011-05-27T11:00:00.001-05:00

I’ve been remiss with my blog because I’ve been laying out volume 41 of Steel Shavings, which will combine blog excerpts with student journals covering March of 2011. Entitled “Northwest Indiana Connections,” it will total 304 pages and sell for $12.50. To preorder, one can send a check for $15, covering postage and handling, made out to Indiana University and addressed to James Lane/History/IUN/3400 Broadway/Gary IN 46408. It is chock full of photos and should be out by the end of June.
Last weekend I interviewed 19 people at the annual IU FACET retreat. They also played a tribute to founder Eileen Bender that Aaron Pigors and I put together that was well received. Colleague Chris Young was inducted into the organization, and we had lots of opportunity to chat.
A couple weeks ago I was on Donald Evans’ radio show in Valpo. We talked about regional history and unions since the union rallies in Wisconsin and Indianapolis were in the news

Know 2 Grow

2011-04-11T15:38:00.002-05:00

Last week IUN students put on three days of events for Islam Awareness Week. On Thursday people were invited to try on headwear (Hijab for women, Kufi for men) and quite a few Black women seemed interested.

I have been busy laying out volume 31 of Steel Shavings and apologize for neglecting the blog.

Went to see a local "pops" orchestra called Rusty Pipes at the old Hobert High School. Dick Hagelberg and Don Evans performed along with several dozen others. They did a medley from "Jersey Boys."

Ran into former Gary mayor Richard Hatcher and discussed Mayor Rudy Clay's sudden departure from the upcoming primary. It looks now to be a two-person race between Ragen Hatcher and karen freeman-Wilson.

Little by Little

2011-03-31T14:07:00.003-05:00

“Obligation, complication
Routines and schedules
Drug and kill you.”
“Little By Little,” Radiohead

Hearing Radiohead and “Penny Lane” got me wondering if any newly released album has the impact that “Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band” did in 1967. People played it in groups and studied the lyrics for deep meanings. “Penny Lane,” although recorded during the “Sgt. Pepper” sessions was released as a single with “Strawberry Fields Forever” on the flip side and put on the “Magical Mystery Tour” album.

Attended Nicole Anslover and Chris Young’s class on The Presidency, dealing with the evolution of campaign slogans and speeches. Chris summarized Harrison’s defeat of Van Buren in 1840 – when the Whigs’ “Log Cabin campaign” incorporated slogans such as “Van, Van’s a Used Up Man” and “Tippecanoe and Tyler, Too.” Nicole led a discussion about TV-age elections. She showed clips of the infamous 1964 “Daisy” ad where LBJ warned of a nuclear war if Goldwater was elected and Reagan’s 1984 “Morning in America” commercial showing white folks enjoying the fruits of prosperity. Walter Mondale that year effectively used “Where’s the Beef” against fellow Democrat Gary Hart – ironic because Hart was a policy wonk whereas Mondale was a Humphrey liberal without an original thought during his entire career. I got a laugh when I mention the 1968 poster of a pregnant girl scout juxtaposed with the Republican slogan “Nixon’s the One.”

Students reported on campaign addresses, including Nixon’s 1952 Checkers speech and Bobby Kennedy’s remarks in Indianapolis following the assassination of Martin Luther King. One woman cited William Jennings Bryan’s “Cross of Gold” speech, and I mentioned how Mark Hanna amassed a huge war chest from corporate titans and marketed William McKinley in 1896 as the “Advance Agent of Prosperity.” Afterwards I emailed Nicole: “When you asked me about crucial elections, I was tempted to say even more about 1896, the first time since 1860 there was a real choice between a reformer and a conservative and a representative of the rural West and South against the candidate of the industrialized East. Even the contrast between the campaigns is striking, Bryan traversing the country and McKinley on the Front Porch. Little wonder big business opened its coffers to defeat the Great Commoner. It took the skill of a Mark Hanna, and every dirty trick in his book for the Republicans to beat “Billy Bryan.” More people voted for Bryan than any previous winning candidate; too bad even a half million more voted for McKinley. A divided Democratic Party and Bryan’s not winning over enough industrial workers did him in.”

Nicole wrote back: “Thanks for coming and for contributing to the class. I'm glad you enjoyed it--please, come any time! I agree about 1896 - I think we easily could have done the whole class just on that, and used some of Bryan's speeches for color.” Nicole bears a slight resemblance to my childhood friend Bobby Davis, who was fascinated with train schedules and got a job as a station agent before dying at a young age. Would she be insulted, I wonder, by that observation. I once told sister-in-law Maureen she looked a little like Robert Mitchum and she wasn’t amused even though I was thinking of Mitchum’s sexy “bedroom” eyes. Bobby Davis’ mother had expressive eyes, too, and we’d always bet a cake on the All-Star game. While we lived in Michigan, I stayed a week at their house, which old girlfriend Pam Tucker and her family moved into a couple years later.

Jesse Salomon ordered “Daughters of Penelope” and a photo of Gary’s old Miramar Ballroom, which featured big bands during the “swing era” as well as ethnic bands. Steve found one in the Milan Opacich collection.

Brady Wade posted a YouTube spoof of Rebecca Black’s video “Friday.” He narrated the inane words, using a Russian accent for the line, “”Everybody’s Rushin’.” At the end the ‘tweens’ car are in goes over a cliff, and the video warns, “Don’t let 13 year-olds drive – or sing.”

The Tacoma Art Museum, where Gaard Murchy Logan is a docent, is planning to host the gay art exhibit censored by the Smithsonian’s National Portrait Gallery because of pressure from Republican legislators. A David Wojnarowicz video includes a depiction of Jesus on the cross with ants crawling on him as well as a guy masturbating. The museum presently has, according to Gaard, “a small interactive exhibit that includes some of David Wojnarowicz’s art and links to the It Gets Better Project started by a Seattle local, Dan Savage, and his partner. We’ve got this great alternative newspaper out here called The Stranger with which Savage has been closely involved for years.” I replied: “Good for Tacoma’s museum and shame on the Smithsonian’s National Portrait Gallery. I see nothing obscene about David Wojnarowicz’s “A Fire in the Belly.” Hopefully the controversy will boost attendance. Last fall when IUN’s GLBT Alliance had an awareness program about gay teen suicides, they showed the “It Gets Better” YouTube video of Dan Savage and partner Terry. I enjoyed “The Stranger” article on the Secret Sex Lives of Seattle Pacific University Students. It reminded me of my friend Anne Balay’s oral history research into GLBT steelworkers.”

Might be the last day I can say this, but the Cubs are undefeated. SI has the Phillies starters on the cover of its baseball preview issue but predicts Red Sox over Giants in the World Series. Learned that Chad Ochocinco’s last name is Spanish for his uniform number – 85.

Michael Bayer arrived from Vermont for the weekend with seven year-old grandson Eli, whose dad moved to Savannah where he is a boat captain. Michael also came in to see Ken Applehans, who is ailing. Eli’s birthday is the same as Phil’s –March 26 – so we celebrated it five days late. Phil’s family is on its way to Puerto Rico. Before they left, Phil sent an email entitled “If I die” that transferred the family assets to Alissa if they all went down in a plane crash.

Fish out of Water

2011-03-30T10:53:00.003-05:00

“I’m a fish now out of water
Falling off a giant bird that’s been carrying me.”
“Separator,” Radiohead

Sang along with Foghat on the way to school after packing a baloney sandwich, veggies, chips, and cookies for lunch. George Bodmer teased me that the Jay’s and vanilla Oreos were in the same baggie but praised the colorful vegetable selection – radishes, sweet pickles, carrots, and celery.

Missy Brush wants help naming four chicks. I suggested Jaybo or a Japanese name because she is into Japanese game shows, which she watches on the Internet. One possibility is Yoshimi, from the Flaming Lips song “Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots.” It could be called Yosh for short. A friend suggested Crispy, adding “LOL.”

Conservative think tanks and Republican party officials are harassing liberal university professors by seeking emails sent out on their departmental computers under various state Freedom of Information Acts. Among those targeted is Wisconsin professor William Cronon and Labor Studies professors in Michigan. In a NY Times op ed piece Cronon had called for an investigation of Governor Scott Walker’s anti-union campaign and stated that his conduct “has provoked a level of hostility the likes of which have not been seen in this state since at least the Vietnam War.” Defending Cronon, columnist Paul Krugman wrote: “The Cronon affair, then, is one more indicator of just how reflexively vindictive, how un-American, one of our two great political parties has become.”

During a library fire drill the building emptied out in less than two minutes. I chatted with Chancellor Lowe and Librarian Tim Sutherland while we waited for police to make sure the building was empty. All but two of Gary’s library branches are closing due to budget cut, including the main one downtown. Steve McShane and Tim Sutherland are working on making sure items in the Indiana Room are preserved, offering space hear. Both of them had yellow outfits on during the drill.

I congratulated Dave Goldfield on the excellent reviews for “America Aflame.” I was best man at one of his weddings, and we were softball teammates in grad school for the Wobblies. He teaches at UNC Charlotte and I thought it interesting that in Obama's Libyan speech he mentioned that Benghazi was the size of Charlotte. Twenty years ago someone mentioning Charlotte would have added "North Carolina." Now Charlotte has a larger population than Detroit, Baltimore, Boston, Seattle or Denver. I've never been to Charlotte - one of these days. David has been there almost 30 years during which time, as I told him, “Michael Jordon has gone from a skinny kid to a Tar Heel star, a Chicago icon and now a Bobcats owner. Even Walter LaFeber wrote a book about him.”

Bowled a 200 game and 530 series as the Engineers won two points and I took home the five dollars for highest over average. After an opposition bowler made no reply to my compliment, his teammate explained that he had ear plugs and couldn’t hear me because he was listening to music. Home in time for more Letterman jokes about Gadhafi and musical guests Willie Nelson, Wynton Marsalis and Nora Jones, who have collaborated on a Ray Charles tribute album.

It happened Today

2011-03-28T10:22:00.006-05:00

“Out of deference, defiance, the choice
Closing on a promise after all I’ve done today
I have earned my voice.”
REM, “It Happened Today”

REM’s new album, “Collapse into Now,” has guest appearances by two of my favorites, Eddie Vedder and Patti Smith.

Made a final plea to the chancellor to reconsider an unjust decision adversely affecting the History department. Starting out “just between you and me and with malice toward none,” I proposed a scenario that might have saved the day and stated that nothing had given me more grief during my long association with the university than the way the matter had been handled. I concluded: “I thought long and hard before composing this email, and if I am out of line, I apologize.” His reply, as expected, didn’t change anything, but he did thank me for the message and added: “Please know that there is never a need to apologize for sincere advocacy in behalf of a colleague.”

I was fortunate to have been able to convert my PhD dissertation into a book and to carve out five articles from it in such journals as Maryland Historian and Social Service Review. I also adopted the gimmick of reading books of urban literature such as Piri Thomas’ “Down These Mean Streets” and Claude Brown’s “Manchild in the Promised Land,” taking notes about the author’s use of symbolism (the tree, for instance, in Betty Smith’s “A Tree Grows in Brooklyn”), looking up info about them in “Book Review Digest,” and finding a suitable place to publish them (i.e., English Journal for Piri, American Negro Literature Forum for Claude). I even did one for a popular culture journal about Harold Robbins’ “A Stone for Danny Fisher.” Piece of cake.

My colleague Rhiman Rotz neither had a publishable dissertation nor the variety of journals available in which to submit articles. He did have an original insight about the Hanseatic League and spent five years traveling to Europe and perusing documents in medieval German. By the time he went up for tenure, a first-rate medieval journal had accepted his important. He was awarded tenure because P and T committee members trusted the History department – Fred Chary, John Haller, Bill Neil, Jim Newman – when they vouched for Rhiman’s scholarship. Rhiman went on to become a master teacher, founder of the History Club, and, after graduating from law school, adviser to prelaw students. Bruce Sawochka went to IUN while holding down a job thinking he wanted to be a lawyer, but in his senior year he was drawn to teaching. Rhiman told him that while there were plenty of good lawyers, there was a crying need for dedicated teachers. Bruce, like me, chose teaching and has never regretted it. Teaching World History, Rhiman became interested in the development of English Common law in the colony of Rhodesia, which became the independent African country of Zimbabwe. He traveled to London and (at great pains) to Harare (formerly Salisbury) and his research findings were truly original. Though small in number, his scholarly articles were far more important than mine. Rhiman was adviser to the campus Muslim organization, and his last words to me as he was dying of cancer shortly after the World Trade Center bombing was concern for his Muslim students. At his memorial service, the most eloquent speakers were students he had mentored.

Suzi Hummel sent me a YouTube segment on a spiral that’s a common phenomenon in nature and conforms to something known as Fibonacci’s Numbers (i.e., 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, etc.), a sequence made by adding the last two numbers. A twelfth-century Italian mathematician studied under Arabic scholars and was responsible for much of Western Europe switching from Roman numerals to Hindu-Arabic numbers. Some see patterns based on the sequence in spirals found in everything from fingerprints and sand dollars to ocean waves and galaxies.

Sheriff Dominguez and I looked over the IU Press Author’s Questionnaire due at the end of the month. We filled out the form, which I will mail out. Recently the Mayor of East Chicago fired him from the library board in a political ploy that Roy is challenging in court. Hopefully the stupid move will backfire on the interim mayor, the successor to convicted felon George Pabey.

George Bodmer saw my blog entry on the “Forgotten Planet” documentary about Gary and Hashima and showed me a sketch he did about the abandoned Japanese community. Before Mitsubishi closed its coal mining operation, over 5,000 people lived on the tiny, 15-acre "Battleship Island."

I met Jackie Gipson for lunch at TGIF Friday. Since a kitchen grease fire in February, she and Floyd have been living in a motel suite. So far, she reports, the insurance company has been responsive to their needs. She likes Ragen Hatcher, my choice in the upcoming Gary mayoralty election, but is leaning toward attorney Karen Freeman-Wilson, a former Indiana attorney-general and city judge who has helped her in the past without expecting anything in return.

Despite the traumatic world events, the morning news shows extensively covered the death of actress Elizabeth Taylor, who seemed much older than just ten years my senior. One segment discussed her jewelry, another her eight marriages (she was a self-proclaimed serial monogamist) and friendship with Michael Jackson. I recall the fiasco surrounding the making of “Cleopatra” and her portrayal, opposite then-hubby Richard Burton, of a professor’s drunken wife in “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?”

Saturday Toni and I traveled to Grand Rapids for Phil’s forty-third birthday. Miranda was in Detroit as part of a leadership outing, but eight of us went out for Chinese food, including Alissa’s boyfriend Josh, a charming young man whom I met for the first time. He grew up in Indy a Pacers fan and is trying to woo Alissa into not rooting against Michigan, at least when they are not playing her alma mater Michigan State. Home in time to cheer on the Butler Bulldogs, who made it into the Final Four for the second year in a row.

The Times reported the resignation of Brad Cooper, an Indiana prosecutor who emailed Wisconsin governor Scott Walker suggesting he fake a physical attack on himself to discredit the public employee unions protesting his draconian anti-union agenda. Last month Hoosier Jeffrey Cox, a deputy attorney general, was fired after suggesting that live ammunition be used against the demonstrators.

Sunday:Five of us game-tested Evan Davies’ latest version of Air Lords (dubbed Zeta Beta by T. Wade), which he has been fine-tuning for over 15 years after Avalon Hill put out his game Air Baron. Tom, Dave, and I love the original version of Air Lords, but it involves lots of math, so Evan has been struggling to find a simplified modification. It went on for over two hours but was enjoyable. We had a few constructive suggestions. Tom made burgers and brats before a game of Ra that I won quite handily.

More upsets in the NCAA; in fact, for the first time ever no number one or two seeds made the Final Four. Eleven-ranked Virginia Commonwealth would not even have been in the tournament had the number of teams not been expanded to 68. During Kentucky’s win over the Tar Heels, I turned the sound down and played XTC “Nonsuch.”

RIP: Italian-American Geraldine Ferraro, Walter Mondale’s 1984 running mate. The press raised questions about her husband’s finances and alleged mob connections. Debating V.P. George Bush, she chided her adversary for his patronizing attitude. In 2008 she supported Hillary and foolishly claimed that “If Obama were a white man, he would not be in this position.” Of course, had the three-term Congresswoman been a man, she wouldn’t have been on the ’84 ticket.

Monday: I thanked Suzi Hummel for informing me about the Fibonacci Sequence and said it would be fun to talk to our high school math teacher Ed Taddei about it. She wrote back: “Oh, I had such a crush on him!!” “Taddei-Laddie” was a spectacular teacher. I never could read Math textbooks but didn’t have to, he was so good. He taught us probability – i.e., what are the odds of drawing to an inside straight in poker or flipping heads five times in a row with a coin – and I still recall how to figure that stuff out. One time at the end of class, after I had said something insightful, he hugged me right in front of others as I was going out the door– what we call a “man hug” rather than anything sexual.

James has finished “Scat” and is now reading “The City of Ember” by Jeanne DuPrau. It’s a post-apocalyptic novel about an underground city that is running out of power. Heavy.

Ron Cohen sent me a NY Times review of old Marylander friend David Goldfield’s “America Aflame.” The reviewer called it a masterly and provocative synthesis that blames the Civil War on both Southern and Northern evangelistic extremism.

I saw that Alan Barr was showing a Richard Gere movie, “Days of Heaven,” in his Film class, and George Bodmer said was his favorite movie, so I went and loved it. It is about three people who leave Chicago and end up harvesting wheat in America’s heartland. The question the class had to write essays about involved the director’s use of animals. While the movie is a morality play involving class against class as well as a romantic triangle, the plentiful animals – buffalo, pheasants, grasshoppers, rabbits – are amoral creatures in nature following their primal instincts – mainly to eat. At one point grasshoppers completely infest the fields and destroy the crop. There are some domesticated farm animals – cows and geese – and dogs frolic with farmhands bathing in a lake or hunt game with their master. There’s a great scene where a young girl is looking at a photo of dinosaurs and realizing there are phenomena beyond her imagination. Some of the animals are meant to be symbolic – buffalo herds, for example, that no longer would have been alongside a farm, even in the Texas panhandle. Just as there are three types of animals – pets, domesticated animals, and wild animals, so one might view human beings as seen by employers in that light. The farmer (Sam Shepard) who convinces the Chicago trio of Bill, Abby, and Linda to stay on after the harvest treats the girl like a pet, hopes that Abby will become more to him than a domesticated animal, and in the end comes to regard Bill (Richard Gere) as a wild animal who – like wolves or grasshoppers – needs to be eradicated. The movie takes place in 1916 – Woodrow Wilson’s campaign train comes to the prairie – at a time when horse-drawn vehicles and farm machinery are on the way out. Director Terence Malick’s most famous previous film was “Badlands,” about the crime spree of a character based on Charles Starkweather.

Got my toenails cut for five bucks at L.A. Nails. Near me two women were getting leg massages. When I tipped the full-breasted Asian woman two dollars, she said, “Thanks, honey.”

President Obama was on TV explaining his decision to attack Libya to prevent a bloodbath, distinguishing our limited action in conjunction with NATO with Bush’s regime-change policy in Iraq that involved ground troops and cost a trillion dollars. I came away impressed and convinced that we acted properly.

Losing Touch?

2011-03-24T11:14:00.003-05:00

“Hey Andy are you goofing on Elvis
Hey baby, are we losing touch?”
“Man on the Moon,” REM

In the REM song about Andy Kaufman, after the “goofing on Elvis reference, Michael Stipe sings the next line sounding like Elvis. An RS reviewer compared The Decembrists to REM and suggested a joint tour.

Decided to apply for a Rex Foundation grant of $20,000 to help get another four issues of Steel Shavings in print. The Grateful Dead started the Foundation in 1983, named after a roadie and road manager who died in 1976. Years ago, my friend Izzy Young received a grant that allowed his Folklore Institute to keep going. The Foundation doesn’t normally get unsolicited requests, but I went ahead and sent a letter anyway along with some past issues. “By perusing them,” I concluded,” you’ll be able to tell that I’m a Sixties spirited person who loved not only the music of the Grateful Dead but their generous philanthropy.”

In response to a query at lunch, George Bodmer amplified on his “log cabin days.” He wrote: “We lived in Frederick, Maryland, up a dirt road on Braddock Mountain, in a log house. You could walk up the corners from the interlaced logs sticking out. I rode to school on an hour-long bus ride to the school in the town, with all grades on the bus, from 1st graders to seniors in high school (not particularly safe or comfortable for the first graders). I had a higher numbers of snow days since the bus often didn't make it up the mountain. We had copperhead snakes living in the back yard and flying squirrels. A crow once flew down our chimney when I was there alone. We didn't have a doorknob on our front door, just a latch. Look at me, living in the big city now. When I was in fifth grade I liked this girl who lived in the town, so she gave me her address and I rode my bike into town to see her. I stopped at the first house that had her number, not knowing the numbers were the same on all the parallel streets.”

Obtaining monthly Steel Shavings account statements I discovered why there was so few funds – two years ago, I secured $1,750 from the Vice Chancellor to pay the $6,300 necessary for publishing volume 40, but the money was never put into my account. Since June of 2009, I’d been running a deficit until finally the balance was a grand total of 20 cents. I’m working to remedy the situation. The IUN Bookstore was nearly out of “Gary’s First Hundred Years,” so gave them ten in return for extras of volume 40.

Despite a mediocre bowling night (472 series) against the first place team I picked up a 6-7 split and won the five-dollar pot for highest over average – or, in this case, lowest below average. The opponents were friendly (no wonder), congratulating us on good shots.

Looked up info on the 1970s French punk music scene because Jonathyne Briggs invited me to his class covering that subject. Evidently the first French punks (“Les Punks”) were big Lou Reed fans, and the movement also attracted veterans of the 1968 Paris Riots who gravitated to Guy Debord’s Situational Movement and believed advanced capitalism was on its last legs. In “Boozy Creed” Stinky Toys sang about having no god, no illusions, and no dreams,” as if the only thing worth living for was enjoying the moment. The chorus goes: "“I know a few things/ That could make us happy/ Give us lots of beer/ And let us play loud.”

The producer of Flight 33 Productions asked me to critique the “Forgotten Planet” episode dealing with Gary and Hashima, Japan – an island abandoned by Mitsubishi and now totally deserted. I suggested they make distinctions between the two rather than treat them as identical – in other words, delineating that in one case the place was literally abandoned by the very industry that gave it birth, and in the other case the mills are still physically present but, its top officials residing elsewhere, the corporation has relinquished responsibility for the ruinous civic consequences of its policies. I apparently have four speaking parts, at least in draft number nine. Recalling the shoot at City Methodist Church, the most eerie impression one comes away with about the old burnt-out downtown is that side by side next to a new school, housing development, and minor league baseball park (The Steelyard) are these hulks of once proud buildings that a viable community would value and certainly preserve. With the city bankrupt, unless America changes its priorities, Gary is in danger of becoming another Hashima.

“The Odyssey of Flight 33,” incidentally, was a 1961 “Twilight Zone” episode where a passenger plane crosses a time warp and is back in the Jurassic Age. The pilots manages to get back to 1939 New York during the time of the World’s fair but there’s no airport able to accommodate his Boeing 707 and the plane is running out of fuel. The pilot’s final words to passengers before fade-out: “All I ask is that you remain calm . . . and pray.”

Malice toward None

2011-03-22T14:45:00.003-05:00

“When I was a younger man I hadn’t a care
Foolin’ around, hitting the town, growing my hair.”
“I Love You,” Climax Blues Band

Still growing my hair (no visit to Quick Cut in 6 weeks), I proofread another excellent Woody Guthrie chapter for Ron. He mentioned that Studs Terkel wrote about Woody for a men’s magazine called “Climax.” Wonder if there’s a copy in the Kinsey Institute. At an oral history conference Studs talked about interviewing a milk deliveryman who sometimes surprised women sunning themselves topless in the backyard. His quip about it being one of the perks of the job got a big laugh from most men and stony silence from most women.

Because I am on his pre-tenure review committee, I observed Chris Young teaching in the class on The Presidency. Working with John Adams’ 200 state-of-the-union message and Lincoln’s Second Inaugural address, he was at ease leading a discussion that involved most students, and he provided background info in a concise but incisive manner that kept the students’ attention (and mine, too). Adams mentioned the Convention of 1800 that ended the quasi-war with France and ironically split the Federalist Party, paving the way for Jefferson’s triumph over Adams in the 1800 election. Lincoln’s “malice toward none” speech was a plea for reunion and national healing but he made clear that the South would have to accept the Thirteenth Amendment abolishing slavery. I used the phrase “malice toward none” in the “Retirement Journal” editor’s note apologizing if I unintentionally hurt anyone’s feelings.

Karren Lee wrote: “It is amazing what is going on in the world. I listen to NPR all day and see the images on the Internet. Too much to take in. Talk about al lot of tough decisions for Obama. I often wonder why anyone wants the job!!! I have to admit I am so disappointed in how few changes we’ve seen in his presidency. Continuing the war in Afghanistan? Same Guantanamo policy as Bush? No one from the banks, agencies, wall street indicted for the collapse of the housing market even though everyone knows who did what? If he isn’t the agent of change than whom can you vote for?” I replied: “I agree with your political assessment; at least being President, Obama can take his family to Brazil and Chile all expenses paid. It is criminal what the hedge funds sharks do and then pay fewer taxes than we do. Obama needs to attack the Wall Street bastards more and come up with a tax code that cuts out corporate welfare.”

After a $1,30 beef taco, I spotted a Spring 1998 issue of Spirits at the Anthropology book sale. Sarah McColly’s poem “How Can You Say You’re Sorry?” ends: “If I could bring myself to talk to you without fear or hate on my mind, I’d ask you one question I’ve been wondering: ‘Who do I appear to be from the other side of the bottle?’” William Buckley wrote about “The Old Pines on our Campus,” cut down to make way for a new building – “replaced with cinder blocks and aluminum, plastic and asphalt, the old, tired metaphors of Industrial America.” George Bodmer wrote about a couple weathering a hurricane: “The sky came down and the sea came up and beat in the house until it danced to the music.” In the “Biographies” section Bodmer mentioned living in a log cabin as a child.

Called up Mary Delp to talk about classmates and the Bulls. I started out, “This is Jimbo,” followed by “Jimmy Lane.” “I know who Jimbo is,” she said. She is always good humored and acts like I’m not a bother. I called while she was cooking dinner, but she had ten minutes for me. A character in “Empire Falls” taught his son the “bother principal.” If you are going to break rules, keep it to a low level because most muckety-mucks don’t sweat the small stuff. Maria Arredondo’s mother sold a little home brew during Prohibition. Warned the Mob might not like it, she said that as little as she was selling, they weren’t going to bother with her.

Peter Pumpkinhead

2011-03-21T12:55:00.004-05:00

“He made too many enemies
Of the people who would keep us on our knees.”:
“Ballad of Peter Pumpkinhead,” XTC

Friday: My upset NCAA predictions bombed. Bucknell lost by 29 and MSU made up a 23-point deficit but lost by two. The two favorites eliminated were Louisville and Vanderbilt.

At 6:58 a.m. the NBC local news Dance Friday song was by Internet sensation Rebecca Black, whose music video for “Friday” “went viral,” getting over a million hits on the day it premiered. The cool-dancing weatherman called it the lamest song he’s heard in a long time. That may be true, but the video is cute and, I’m sure, resonates with teens. I was hit number 15,802,204. The 13 year-old was on “Good Morning America.” Cody Brotter in Huffington Post claimed the rap portion by producer Patrice “Pato” Wilson (the chauffeur in the video) is enough to make Wiz Khalifa look like Langston Hughes. Someone has out a parody with Bob Dylan supposedly singing the lyrics. They start out, “7a.m., waking up in the morning/ Gotta be fresh, gotta go downstairs/ Gotta have my bowl, gotta have cereal.”

Had an unusually vivid dream last night. In a building similar to Purdue North Central’s to talk with History faculty, led by an old man with a cane took me to a lower level where various faculty members, not necessarily historians, were sitting, I explained what Steel Shavings was about in a nervous voice, not sure why I was doing so. I asked if anyone taught recent American history – perhaps to see if they wanted to have students keep journals or maybe because I wanted to teach a seminar – and someone said sarcastically that a guy teaches Business and Industry. That’s all I remember.

A Chesterton Tribune front-page story quoted environmental Herb Read, who said that the Japanese reactors were the same design as what NIPSCO had proposed for Northwest Indiana.

Ron dropped in for an hour to discuss his Woody Guthrie project (he wants me to proofread a couple chapters) and upcoming lecture on folk music at Northwestern. We talked about the Bob Dylan’s old girlfriend Suze Rotola, who died recently, and mutual friend Izzy Young, founder of the Folklore Institute, who’s coming to NY soon.

Enjoyed the whodunit “The Lincoln Lawyer,” with Marisa Tomei sparkling as lead Matthew McConaughey’s ex-wife and “Fargo” guy William Macy as his long-haired private investigator. I’ve always liked courtroom dramatizations.

Saturday: WXRT highlighted 1992 and played “Peter Pumpkinhead, which may have been about JFK, Jesus, or merely a pumpkin. One line goes, “Plots and sex scandals failed outright, Peter merely said any kind of love is alright” – perhaps a reference to Mary Magdalene or Marilyn Monroe. Robert Blaszkiewicz turned me on to XTC, a British band that virtually never toured and whose 1992 CD “Nonsuch” was also the name of a Tudor palace built by Henry VIII. After mailing gifts to Californians Crosby and Addison, shopped at Chesterton’s Wise Way, a first, and found good deals on sweet pickles and Oreos similar to chocolate mint girl scout cookies.

As if the Japanese nuclear crisis isn’t enough, now we’ve leading attacked Libya eight years to the day after the Iraq invasion. Obama is directing the action from Brazil, there with the family on a good will trip. “Dutch” Reagan was canny enough to limit military intervention against Gaddafi to a relatively inexpensive onetime effort to kill him, which cowed him into semi-behaving himself. Obama is claiming we are acting as part of a broad coalition, but the Arab “partners” are unreliable at best. Libyans in the eastern part of that country might be more anti-American than Gaddafi was.

Before driving to the Hagelbergs for bridge and Chinese food watched a forgettable remake of “Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner,” only this time with the guy (Ashton Kutcher) white and the upset dad (Bernie Mac) black. Hot daughter (Zoe Saldana) was Neytiri in “Avatar.”

Sunday: headlines reminiscent of the BP oil spill indicate the crises in Libya and Japan won’t soon be over. I went one for four in gaming, barely edging out Tom and Dave in St. Pete. I kept Tom’s Egezia game to study the rules some more. Home for Michigan against top-seeded Duke. Had the Wolverines won, I’d have looked like a genius and been back in contention in the NCAA pool. Up a point Duke missed a shot but got the rebound, then made one of two free throws. Down two with a few seconds left, Darius Morris drove the lane and missed a runner. Had he passed to a guy on the right wing who had been draining trees all afternoon, they might have won.

Niece Lisa stopped in with Oliver and Grace after hubby Fritz took off for Jamaica. Kids had loved our house on Maple Place but explored nearly every inch of the condo. They played Shooters with me and followed me downstairs while I was folding the laundry to find some of Toni’s toys where the creatures wiggle when you push in the bottom. Getting cookies for them, I told Grace the jar was designed so parents could hear noise if kids took the lid off. She appeared a few minutes later with cookies and bragged that she got them without me hearing any noise. For dinner Toni made delicious sirloin tips with pan fried noodles and corn.

TCU was slaughtering Purdue so badly I turned the sound down and listened to the Portland band The Decembrists’s CD Beth gave me as a belated birthday present and then “Duke” on vinyl. At halftime I talked to Gaard Logan, who had no interest in the NCAA tournament and promised to email me her reaction to the unsettling world events. Phil still wants to go to California with me and will give me dates he is free after his semester is over.

Monday: heard Weezer's “Troublemaker” on the way to school. The chorus goes: “I’m a troublemaker/ Never been a faker/ Doin’ things my own way/ And never givin’ up.” Voodoo Chili did a great version of Weezer’s “Beverly Hills” that always got the crowd singing the chorus. My favorite Weezer song is “Island in the Sun.” In the car one cannot resist singing “ hip hip hip hip” along with them. It’s such an upbeat song about young love except for the end, when the last line goes, “We’ll never feel that anymore.”

Jeff Manes emailed me his comments to a Post-Trib column by Rich James defending unions and the Indiana Democrats who fled to Illinois rather than allow Republicans to engage in class warfare against the middle class. Manes wrote: “Thanks, Rich. We’re the 51st state of the union. Don’t tread on us {Governor} Daniels and (Speaker) Bosma.” Someone in turn called Manes and James two-bit whores, edited to read “$$ clowns.”

Sylvia Gibbs inquired who the Delaney Housing Project in Gary was named after? I told her about Reverend Frank Delaney, who founded Stewart Settlement House and pointed her to “City of the Century.”

Took four Shavings to Bob Mucci for the dollar Anthropology Club sale. He gave me a Credit Union receipt from 1985 that had been in a book I’d donated when I retired. Bulls beat Sacramento by 40 points enabling Coach Tom Thibodeau to rest the starters for tomorrow’s contest at Atlanta.

St. Patrick's Day

2011-03-17T11:38:00.000-05:00

“Nobody told me there’d be days like this
Strange days indeed.”
John Lennon

On The Drive’s “Ten at Ten” Wednesday I heard John Lennon’s “most peculiar Mama” song that Yoko had released in 1984 as part of the album “Milk and Honey.” Next was Don Henley’s “Down at the Sunset Grill” and songs by the Cars and Van Halen. A recent RS with Snooki on the cover has an excerpt from Sammy Hagar’s new book characterizing guitarist Eddie Van Halen as a complete slob and fruitcake.

In response to my remarks about Simone de Beauvoir and Nelson Algren Karren wrote: “What a passionate love affair that burned hotter in Simone than Nelson evidently.” Mentioning that Algren died alone, virtually a recluse, I wrote back: “Simone’s letters indicate that he feared the straight-laced, well-behaved “Herbert Hoover” side of him would strangle the angry, rebellious side vital, he believed, to his literary growth – kind of like Norman Mailer worrying about reverting to the nice Jewish boy his parents raised him to be.”

Paul Wyche sent me his article on reaction to the nuclear disaster in Japan, entitled “Crisis reawakens anti-nuclear resolve.” Quoting me labeling NIPSCO’s attempt to build a nuclear power plant on the shores of Lake Michigan “stupid,” he ended the article thusly: “Lane said Japan’s nuclear chaos ‘gives everybody reason for pause and exposes the folly of (blindly) trusting utility companies’”

Chicken sandwich for lunch and yogurt for supper, knowing I’ll be having popcorn and draft beer at Cressmoor Lanes. On Facebook Darcey Wade wrote: “Just want to say I am so proud of my kid! I only joined FB to play scrabble, and don't have a ton of "friends". But the only person to publish sympathy and empathy on my page for the people of Japan was my kid Brady Wade. I'll never be voted mother of the year - but so damn proud we raised someone with love and empathy.”

I rolled a 226 on the way to a 543 series as the Engineers won two of three games (the final one by four pins). Next to us a guy bowled a 279, one seven-pin (in the tenth) shy of a perfect game. He wasn’t too excited, he explained, because he’d previously had 35 of them.

Poi Dog Pondering, the Chicago band originally from Hawaii (why anyone would leave the islands for the Windy City is beyond me), has a cover version of “Win” on their new EP “Audio Love letter,” where they honor some of their favorite people and songs, such as “Uncertain Smile” by The The. I’ve never been a huge Bowie fan but respect his versatility.

In my “Ides of March 2003” issue Lisa McNeiley wrote about attending Chicago’s St. Patrick’s Day parade wearing a leprechaun hat, shanrock-shaped sunglasses, and strands of green beads. In my “2000” issue Shannon Koeppen noted that because the holiday fell on a Friday during Lent, Some parishes did not hold their traditional corn beef and cabbage diinners while others did. Bishops in Chicago and Indy granted dispensations, but Gary’s Bishop Dale Melczek refused to do so but some parish priests did.

John Davies praised my TRACES article on Vivian Carter and said he’d share it with the store manager at the Visitors Center. I told him that “Maria’s Journey” is getting great reviews and rather than nominate just Maria Arredondo for the Wall of Legends, as I did last year, I’m thinking of nominating Mexican-American Women Pioneers (“Harbor Lights,” as they have been called) that could include Maria, Sheriff Dominguez’s mother, and others.

Ides of March

2011-03-15T13:55:00.003-05:00

“On my own again
Alone again tonight.”
Genesis

Up before seven, I caught the latest alarming news about the Japanese nuclear reactors. Cooked six pieces of bacon (two slices cut into thirds) to go with OJ, coffee and cheerios mixed with blueberries and banana slices. Made a chicken sandwich for lunch to go with celery, radishes, chips, and cookies. On the drive to IUN listened to sports jocks talk about the Blackhawks and the NCAA tournament. Thirteen years ago today, Valparaiso’s Bryce Drew hit a miracle shot against Old Miss. Filling in my brackets, I picked Kansas to beat Ohio State in the Final but both Michigan and Michigan State to go far and Bucknell to pull another upset against third-seeded UConn, which had to play four days in a row to win the Big East tournament.

Got to school and discovered I’d somehow skinned my left thumb to the point where it was bleeding slightly. Bummer! I received emails from TRACES editor Ray Boomhower (who received my “Maria” article), Chris Young (he got the grant from the Virginia Historical Society and thanked me for the letter of endorsement), Ron Cohen (about a rally in Lansing, Michigan, that Michael Moore is organizing), Fred McColly (with advice on rain barrels), and Karren Lee (thanking me for telling her about the book club event and offering to loan me Simone de Beauvoir’s “Love Letters” book). I told her I found “Transatlantic Love Affair: Letters to Nelson Algren” in IUN’s library and added: “I had no idea there were so many letters – 559 pages worth. Simone came to Miller Beach twice and according to the editor (Sylvie – her daughter?) had a miserable time in 1950 and a better experience in 1951 although by then Nelson’s affections had turned to someone else. He does not seem to be a very lovable man. Your comparisons last evening between the meal habits of your Romanian relatives with the Arredondos was very interesting, and the restaurant you described brought back memories of being in Istanbul and seeing clusters of men engaged in animated discussion while smoking and drinking coffee (or whatever) from small cups or glasses. If and when they ate, the platters were probably heavy on meat.”

Took my lunch to the cafeteria but found it devoid of faculty, it being Spring Break. They were out of milk, so I could have eaten the sandwich in my “cage.” A reporter from the Fort Wayne Journal Gazette, aware that I had written about the Bailly antinuclear fight, called for my reaction to the impending catastrophe in Japan. I gave him a quote about never trusting utility companies, recalled how Ed Osann would ask what one notices about cement, used to contain leaking radiation (the inevitable cracks), and mentioned organized labor’s vital part in the Bailly Alliance. At a rally celebrating the victory Jack Weinberg warned against complacency because there was more work to be done in places such as Illinois. I suggested he call Chesterton Tribune editor David Canright, more knowledgeable than I and a leader in the Bailly Alliance.

Donna DeGradi from the Bookstore called to say someone from IU Bloomington was interested in buying my Gary and Vietnam Shavings. I told her to have him come to the Archives. His name was John Gusan, and he grew up in a Romanian household in Gary, attending Froebel and Lew Wallace (Class of 1959). He was on board a ship during the bogus Gulf of Tonkin incident and relayed messages from the ships involved back to the National Security Agency. He mentioned that his brother-in-law is Greek and was pleased when I gave him “Daughters of Penelope” and “Age of Anxiety.”

Waiting to see Vice Chancellor Malik, I skimmed through Keith Sinclair’s “History of New Zealand.” Scholars call the first Polynesian settlers moa-hunters because they feasted on massive flightless birds that were as tall as ten feet high. Not surprisingly the moas were soon extinct. Malik loved the Eileen Bender tribute DVD and suggested we find footage of her participating in a legendary choir session.

I emailed Bruce Allen that I was putting the AT Auto cap he gave me and other Upper Dublin classmates at the reunion to good use, what with all the snow and rain. He sent me a nice reply, saying he’ll re-stock me next time we cross paths. That inspired me to call him and we had a good chat about classmates we’re in touch with and how much we miss Dick Garretson, who dragged us into a bar in 1980 to watch the Phils clinch the NL pennant. He took a bunch of people to the reunion banquet in a limo designed to look like a vintage car, and I told him my goal was to be in one like that at our next reunion.

Filled the Corolla tank with 11 gallons of gas selling for $3.51.9 a gallon. Talked to Toni in Michigan, who spent much of the day shopping for stuff Alissa needs in her new apartment. Had leftover filet minion while watching the Bulls, in green uniforms for St. Patrick’s Day, get another win to move ahead of Boston for the number one seed in the East. Aretha Franklin was at courtside, and often maligned Keith Bogans had five threes an a season high 17 points against the Wizards.

Tsunami

2011-03-14T11:13:00.003-05:00

“This spot was a playground
This flat land used to be a town.”
“Black Gold,” Soul Asylum

The most powerful earthquake in Japan’s history cracked open highways and caused skyscrapers to sway in Tokeo hundreds of miles from the epicenter. It triggered a devastating tsunami that wiped out entire towns along the country’s northeast coast. The wave that struck the city of Sendai was 23 feet high. What a catastrophe!

Hearing “Black Gold” on the car radio was enough to get me singing along. Although “Runaway Train” is Soul Asylum's most famous song, “Black Gold” is my favorite. The band was big in the early Nineties and played for the Clintons at the White House.

Found “Hotel New Hampshire” On Demand, based on a novel by always quirky John Irving, also responsible for “The World According to Garp” and “The Cider House Rules.” Jodie Foster and Rob Lowe are fantastic as brother and sister who end up in an incestuous relationship. Nastassja Kinski plays a troubled young lady who spends most of her time in a bear outfit. Seeing the movie caused me to check out John Irving’s novel. I found the writing lively and humorous in a droll way. I still recall the car crash scene in “The World According to Garp” where his wife is giving a student a blowjob when her car is rammed from behind and she bites the guy’s dick off. Born a week after I came into the world, Irving studied under Kurt Vonnegut at a Writers Workshop in Iowa, and his “shit happens” worldview is similar to the author of “Slaughterhouse Five” and “Breakfast of Champions.”

Toni found out that we could attend a workshop and purchase a 50-gallon rain barrel for a nominal amount of money to prevent water from our gutter from accumulating behind our condo every time it rains. Following board procedure I obtained signatures of approval from four neighbors.

SI’s cover story about Joe DiMaggio’s 56-game hitting streak in 1941 mentions that the Yankee Clipper loved to read Superman comics but was ashamed to be seen buying them, so he’d have his teammate Lafty Gomez purchase them for him. Joe allegedly screwed countless women in hotel rooms and was possessive towards his wife, onetime aspiring actress Dorothy Arnold, who divorced him soon afterwards. According to Richard Ben Cramer’s unflattering “Joe DiMaggio: A Hero’s Life,” the ballplayer was an egotistic miser who secretly took money from Mob figures in return for gracing their establishments with his presence at such places as the Stork Club, El Morocco and the Copacabana.

The Bulls honored the 1990-1991 team that brought the first NBA championship to Chicago. Michael Jordon and Scottie Pippin were in the house as well as lesser lights such as Cliff Levingston and Stacey King. Led by Derrick Rose and Luol Deng, who each had 26 points, Chicago played virtually a perfect first half against the Utah Jazz and led after 24 minutes 68-41 before cruising to victory. Derrick was draining trees and had 17 points by the end of the first quarter.

Sunday’s Times has a huge cover story about Youngstown, Ohio, and how the blue-collar rustbelt city has attempted to recover from losing its steel industry 30 years ago. Like Gary, Youngstown has lost more than half its population since its heyday when steel mills employed tens of thousands of workers. Bruce Springsteen sang about Youngstown in a song on his 1995 album “The Ghost of Tom Joad.” Although he describes steelworkers as doing a job “that would suit the devil well,” employment allowed workers to provide their families with a decent life. The chorus goes “Here in Youngstown/ My sweet Jenny, I’m sinkin’ down/ Here darlin’ in Youngstown.” Jenny was the nickname of Youngstown Sheet and Tube’s Jeanette Blast Furnace, which shut down in 1977 and whose rusting hulk can still be scene for miles.

Footage of the tsunami in Japan Is pretty mind-boggling. Explosions have taken place at nuclear power plants, and there is a real danger of meltdowns and radiation leakage into the air.

Tom Wade reported that as many as 150,000 people gathered in Madison to protest Republican attempts to strip public employees of bargaining rights. There’s a movement underway to recall the legislative ringleaders. I went 0 for 5 in gaming, losing both Amun Re and Stone Age by a single point, the result of a bad sacrifice and poor dice rolling.

Caught the end of the Blackhawks game Sunday against Washington. The day before last year’s Stanley Cup winners were White House guests. The Hawks tied the game with a minute to go to guarantee at least a point but lost in OT. Had little interest in the college basketball games so watched episodes of “Skins” and “Curb Your Enthusiasm” On Demand.

Drove to Theo’s restaurant in Highland for the Arredondo’s presentation of “Maria’s Journey” to the history book club. About 30 people showed up. Judge Ken Anderson was to my left with his Harbor-born mother. To my right was Karren Lee, who seemed interested in being a presenter in the future. With she being a vegetarian and Ken telling his mother he doesn’t eat veal because of what they do to the young calves, I decided against ordering the veal and selected the filet minion, taking most of it home after filling up on soup, salad, and bread. With one Beck added to the bill, it came to $37.80 including tax or $45 with tip.

Karren and I talked about Laura Hillenbrand’s “Unbroken” and feminist Simone De Beauvoir’s romance with novelist Nelson Algren. After mentioning how they came to write the book, crediting me with being instrumental in its conception and execution, Ray and Trish read excerpts from the chapter “Mill Rats.” Ray’s brother, Judge Lorenzo Arredondo, provided anecdotes about his parents and family dynamics – speaking Spanish at home, getting jobs at a young age such as helping the milkman, being disciplined not only by Maria but older sister Jenny. It was interesting watching how Lorenzo, who is used to being the center of attention, resisted the impulse to dominate the discussion. He mentioned bringing a girlfriend to dinner who was shocked that Maria was eating in the kitchen and that the sisters were waiting on the men, but that’s how it was and nobody was going to get Maria to change her ways.

Karren mentioned that when she visited relatives in Romania, the women family members didn’t sit down with the men and when they went to an uncle’s favorite restaurant, it was the first time his wife had ever been there. She described everyone at a long table and servers bringing out plates and plates of meat.

I limited my input to two short remarks. After Trish asked the group which of the family members other than Maria they found most fascinating, I answered Miguel and said that one can’t understand his personality without taking into account the harrowing mills conditions he faced every working day and the energy he put into union organizing, which at one point caused him to be fired and lose his seniority. Lorenzo added that he could have made more money had he not refused shift work, but he believed a man should be home with his family for dinner, at which time he’d talk about national and world events at the table. He was a voracious reader of both English and Spanish newspapers. Lorenzo mentioned that Miguel once said that you never know how the seeds that you plant will turn out. That led me to mention how a family friend told me that the Arredondo offspring were all different from one another but all characters with strong personalities. Trish heartily agreed.

To Karren’s right were attorney Richard Maroc and his wife. When Maroc commented that he had retired as a judge eight years ago, I told him that there’s a photo of him under the headline “Retiring” in my “Ides of march 2003” issue of Shavings and promised to send him a copy. Other people in attendance were George Van Til (pleased that IU Press will be publishing Roy Dominguez’s autobiography) and Bob Selund (who praised my chapter introductions in “Maria’s Journey”). After a woman asked me to autograph the book where my name appears at the end of the Foreword, Karren had me autograph hers (I signed it James “Jimbo” Lane).

Home alone (Toni having gone to Michigan to help Alissa get settled in her n apartment), I popped a beer and turned on the Blackhawks game as they were scoring five goals in the second period in their 6-3 win over the Coyotes. With the sound off in the third period I listened to the Genesis “Duke” album. On MSNBC’s “The Ed Show” they kept showing demonstrators from Saturday’s rally in Madison holding signs and wearing t-shirts with slogans like “Our governor is a Koch sucker.” I kept hoping to see Tom Wade, who had carried a picture of a pig representing the billionaire Koch brothers with Republican politicians including Governor Scott Walker sucking its teats.

Shine

2011-03-11T10:26:00.002-06:00

“Show me where to look
Tell me what will I find.”
Collective Soul

Thursday morning errands included food shopping, picking up medicine at CVS (behind the counter was a young woman who looked like Taylor Swift), mailing our tax returns, getting a glasses screw fixed, and dropping off my Living Will at Dr. Ostroski’s. At the library read an article in “Vanity Fair” about JFK, Jr., risking his life kayaking with his girlfriend years ago. Grabbing a burger and fries at Mickey D’s, heard two geezers were debating the difference between a republic and a democracy about them both being alternatives to monarchy but that the Founding Fathers, distrusting direct democracy, came up with all sorts of checks and balances in establishing the American republic. Was tempted to add my two cents. Listened to the great Terri Hemmert spinning songs at the noon hour on WXRT, including Collective Soul’s “Shine.” Hemmert, who started at the station in 1973, does a Sunday “Breakfast with the Beatles” show and was invited to the White House last June when President Obama presented Paul McCartney with the Gershwin Prize.

After one final revision based on Ray and Trish’s excellent suggestions, I sent “The Journeys of Maria Perez Arredondo off to TRACES editor Ray Boomhower. Aaron Pigors showed me the almost completed DVD about Eileen Bender, ten minutes of tributes followed by our 90-minute interview. It’s awesome. Sheriff Dominguez dropped off a clean copy of “Valor” along with a warm note reiterating that the project wouldn’t have been possible without my assistance.

Talked to Steve’s class about urban and rural life in the Region during the 1920s, contrasting the rapid growth of the “Magic City” of Gary with the rural life during Portage’s “quiet years.” The students generally read the remembrances of old residents with gusto, and one woman personally knew two old-timers from her church and mentioned that her grandmother had attended Froebel until forced to quit to support the family. Showed the class 1929 yearbooks for Portage (Crisman School) and Gary (Horace Mann). Crisman had eight seniors and included a page of jokes, including two racist ones. Many of the Mann girls have bobbed hair and belonged to sororities. I reminded students to keep journals diligently. Waiting for the elevator, I asked one young woman if she was doing anything interesting over Spring Break. “Yeah, getting my wisdom teeth removed,” she replied making a sour face.

With Wisconsin Democrats are still in Illinois the governor has found a way to have legislation passed stripping public employees of the right to bargain collectively. Indiana’s Mitch Daniels did the same thing by executive order seven years ago. Brady Wade, outraged by the Republican class war, is calling for Chesterton High School students to walk out early tomorrow. The afternoon Chesterton Tribune mentioned that over 5,000 people demonstrated in Indy and the chickenshit Republicans adjourned, supposedly because of the lack of hotel rooms since the Big Ten tournament was taking place. IU lost its first game to nobody’s surprise.

Aaron Pigors’ latest version of the Eileen Bender DVD tribute is fantastic. I’ll show it to former FACET director David Malik for suggestions and then send copies off to the FACET office and the Retreat Planning Committee chair.

Though Matt Damon and Emily Blunt are terrific, “The Adjustment Bureau” was disappointing and unrealistic, with a climactic chase scene that lacked suspense. The audience is supposed to believe that higher powers have taken away human beings’ free will for civilization’s own good – during the two times in history when this was not the case the result was the Dark Ages and then WW I and WW II. The plotline – Senate candidate meets ballerina – would have made a better story without the supernatural mumbo jumbo.

My alma mater Bucknell defeat Lafayette in the Patriot League final to win a NCAA tournament berth. Six years ago the Bisons upset third-seeded Kansas in its first NCAA appearance ever. I spent the first six years of my life across the street from Lafayette in Easton, Pennsylvania. On campus was a monkey tied to a chain or rope that I’d enjoy visiting. Whenever Lafayette hosted football rival Lehigh there’d be a big parade in front of our home.

I’m looking into summer teaching possibilities at Bucknell and Hawaii, where I got a master’s degree. The idea would be seminars combining journal keeping and oral interviews having to do with everyday life and local history. At Bucknell, there was an uneasy relationship between students and “townies,” which would be interesting to explore 50 years later. The interaction between “Islanders” and students from the mainland and overseas would also make for an interesting study.

Brady Wade called off the walkout at Chesterton when the administration threatened to throw the book at him. I’m disappointed in the school’s over-reaction but glad that Brady did the sensible thing.

Raindrops

2011-03-09T11:23:00.002-06:00

“Ride at night we ride all day
Looking out for a sunny day.”
“Southside,” Moby

Born in a Harlem neighborhood, Moby recorded “Southside in 1999 for the album “Play.” It evokes young people riding around at night in a desolate, perhaps futuristic, urban neighborhood reminiscent of areas of Detroit, New York or Gary, Indiana. Heard it on WXRT on the way to school. Born Richard Melville Hall, Moby took his stage name because he believes he is a descendant of the author of “Moby Dick.” In an episode of “Curb Your Enthusiasm” after Cheryl leaves Larry, he becomes so depressed that Leon calls him “Mopey Dick.”

Had a full house at the Archives, including a woman working on a pictorial history of Cedar Lake who praised my Shavings issue. I told her that most of our Cedar Lake photos came from town historian Beatrice Horner. Others are in the museum (the old Lassen’s Hotel, which unfortunately has no heat or air-conditioning.

At lunch Bill Dorin mentioned watching a documentary on radio deejays featuring Dick Biondi, who he listened to as a kid and who is still on the air. We talked about the payola scandal that ruined some jocks including Allen Freed while others just as culpable, such as Dick Clark, emerged unscathed. After we moved to Gary, I listened to Larry Lujack, who played Top Fifty hits sprinkled in with Oldies before switching mainly to the FM station WMET, which played album-oriented rock ‘n’ roll.

Darcey, who did our tax returns, stopped by the condo with Brady, first time either had seen the place. Toni made a delicious meal of scallops, pan fried potatoes, lima beans, and cooked tomatoes with cheese on top. By the time I turned on the Blackhawks they were down 3-0. The closest they could get was 3-2, and their winning streak ended at eight.

There’s flooding on the East Coast, civil war in Libya, and a budget deadlock in Congress as Republicans try to gut Planned Parenthood, NPR, the IRS, and regulatory agencies. Warner Brothers fired “Two and a Half Men” star Charlie Sheen after his behavior got weird even by Hollywood standards. What a colossal mistake; ratings for new shows would go through the roof. Miami Heat lost again (boo hoo), and Phil Jackson ridiculed players allegedly crying in the locker room, saying, “This is the NBA: No Boys Allowed. Big boys don’t cry. But if you’re going to cry, do it in the toilet where no one can see.” In the 1961 smash hit “Raindrops” Dee Clark imagined his tears were raindrops “falling from my eye-eyes” since “a man ain’t supposed to cry.”

On Facebook Angie posted a James and Becca performance of “The People’s Song” from “Les Miserables” at the Towle Theater in Hammond.

Against the Dingbats, a friendly group featuring the McCann brothers Fred and Bobby, the Engineers won five of seven points. I rolled a 472, slightly below my average. I won two of the quarters pots, striking on my last ball. Frank and his wife are both in a quilt show on Saturday.

Hearing the Portland, Oregon, band Dandy Warhols on the radio always picks me up. “Bohemian Like You” was part of the soundtrack to “Igby Goes Down.” After Terry Lukas helped me lay out a Shavings, I gave him a Dandys CD because I heard they were an “in” group with gays. Turned out he hadn’t heard of them and didn’t like their music. So much for stereotypes.

Always faithful

2011-03-07T15:22:00.002-06:00

“When the love of the poor shall one day turn to hate
When the patience of the workers give away
Would be better for the rich if they never been born
So they laid Jesus Christ in the grave”
“Jesus Christ,” by Woody Guthrie

Tom Wade went back to Madison, Wisconsin, this time with son Brady, and heard Michael Moore address the tens of thousands of demonstrators. According to the Wall Street Journal, Moore read from a statement he titled “America is Not Broke.” The filmmaker said, “Contrary to what those in power would like you to believe so that you’ll give up your pension, cut your wages, and settle for the life your great-grandparents had–America is not broke, not by a long shot, the country is awash in cash… 400 obscenely wealthy individuals…most of whom benefited in some way from the multitrillion dollar taxpayer bailout of 2008, now have more cash, stock and property than the assets of 155 million Americans combined. It is a shame. If you can’t bring yourself to call that a financial coup d’état, then you are simply not being honest with what you know in your heart to be true.” On the soundtrack to Moore’s “Capitalism: A Love Story” is Merle Haggard singing “Jesus Christ.”

No gaming so watched the Sunday news shows. Two conservative commentators said more Republicans haven’t declared for president because they think Obama is unbeatable. Let’s hope. Gingrich and Huckabee are goofballs, and Mitt Romney will have to prostitute himself to win over rightwing crazies. Concerning Huckabee’s enormous weight gain, the joke is that he’s trying emulate rotund New Jersey governor Chris Christie, a tea Party darling who issued a Shermanesque statement declaring he won’t run.

Cooked scrambled eggs and bacon, fried portabella mushrooms and onions and raisin toast. Watched the Bulls beat the hated Miami Heat; both LeBron James and Dwayne Wade missed shots in the final seconds. Their coach said there was crying in the dressing room afterwards. Toni made corn beef, potatoes, and cabbage for us and the Hagelbergs prior to two rounds of bridge (Cheryl was the winner). Dick took home one of the ten new issues Boomhower sent me. We found them Sunday morning between the front doors. Kudos to the mailman for not making us pick them up at the post office. Chuck Gallmeier, a TRACES subscriber, offered congratulations on the article. He agreed that it was a nuanced piece that didn’t glorify Vivian Carter but recognized what a terrific impact she had on the popular music of her day. He wants to continue the tradition of having former Faculty Organization chairs open meetings and asked if I’d introduce John Ban in April.

Finished a draft of an article for TRACES about Maria Arredondo based largely on my Foreword to “Maria’s Journey.” I’ll probably revise it several times before submitting it. Cousin Victor Cowan Lane (same name as my dad), whom I’ve never met, sent me information about the Lane family tree. I emailed back: “Thanks so much for the information about our ancestors. If you send me your address, maybe I could reciprocate by sending you a copy of the magazine I edit. By the way my grandson, who goes by James (“no nicknames please”) is very proud to be James Buchanan Lane V.”

I told English prof George Bodmer about coming across the word bildungsroman, and he said he uses it all the time in his Children’s Literature course. Of German origin it refers to novels where a child undergoes a journey during which he is transformed psychologically into an adult. Bodmer mentioned Huck Finn and Dorothy from “The Wizard of Oz” as examples. It would be fun to sit in on one of George’s classes.

In the student union I spotted Dean Mark Hoyert participating in a faculty-student trivia contest. With the questions dealing with cartoon characters and TV ads he had the fewest points but finally rang in successfully by identifying “Semper Fi” as the slogan of the Marine Corps. Nearby, signing up folks for a Thursday rally at the Indy statehouse, were Labor Studies mainstays Mike Olszanski and Thandabantu Iverson. Their flyer asked students to “Stand against the attacks on all working families!!” It contained this quote by martin Luther King: “In our glorious fight for civil rights, we must guard against being fooled by false slogans as ‘right to work.’ It provides no ‘rights’ and no ‘works.’ Its purpose is to destroy labor unions and the freedom of collective bargaining.”

“Boogeyman” Jay Keck ordered more copies of “Brothers in Arms” and was in a joking mood, ending his letter with these words: “I am no longer bipolar. I am bisexual, Buy here, pay here, Bicentennial, and Bye Bye Miss American Pie. Thank you my brother, payback time, high noon, Semper Fi.” What a great mind. His calling card is called “Incoming: Flashbacks from the Foxhole.” On the upper left-hand corner is inscribed “PTSD: In Country 13 months, in therapy ever since.”

Legends

2011-03-05T10:49:00.001-06:00

“Boom boom boom boom (March 4)
A-haw haw haw haw
Hmmm hmmm hmmm hmmm.”
John Lee Hooker

Five copies of the Winter 2011 issue of TRACES arrived with ten pages devoted to my article on Vivian Carter and Vee Jay records. Illustrations include Blues legend and Vee Jay recording artist John Lee Hooker playing a guitar in concert. Editor Ray Boomhower promised to send ten more for me to pass out. Because it mentions Vivian’s induction to the Wall of Legends, I’m sending one off to John Davies to see if the Indiana Welcome Center wants to sell some. I also took one to Henry Farag at Canterbury Productions, who is featured prominently in it. With Boomhower’s encouragement, I started an article about Maria Arredondo even though over the next four years the magazine will be featuring articles commemorating Indiana’s Civil War past. The current issue has one on Hoosier Joseph Lane (no relation), who fought in the Mexican War, became Territorial Governor of Oregon and in 1860 was Southern Democrat John Breckinridge’s running mate.

Even though my article was generally favorable toward Vivian, her management skills left something to be desired. I used Spaniels tenor Ernest Warren’s quote that “the only thing I can remember we got was a brand new station wagon and three or four brand new cars. But as far as receiving royalties or anything like that, uh-uh. They always had some excuses.” My final sentence reads: “Although taking financial advantage of some of the performers whose talents the company developed, she captured on vinyl much of the best and most original music of her era. She was a true pioneer.”

Times columnist Mark Kiesling thanked me for my email criticizing his remarks about Danny Glover and those protesting the Republicans’ damnable actions in Indianapolis. He wrote: “It’s an opinion column and I don’t ask anyone to agree with me 100 percent of the time or even 1 percent of the time. I respect the opinion of others, yours included. As someone whose name escapes me said, “Reasonable men may reasonably disagree.” I think, of course, since that was said the option to disagree has also been extended to women. Please continue reading.”

Dave and I went to the Sectional semi-finals at Gary West Side. East Chicago Central and Hammond Morton were tied when a Morton player tried to call timeout with .1 seconds left. Since his team was out of timeouts, Central was awarded two technical fouls shots. Anthony Williams, who had been draining free throws the entire game, missed them both. At one point with East Chicago down eight, Williams was on the line, and I predicted that if he made both shots, the Cardinals would win. He missed the second, but thanks to a lane violation got a second chance and made it. In overtime the Cardinals easily prevailed with Jerrick Ware finishing with 30 points.

The second game pitted undefeated Munster against Lake Central, whose best player Glenn Robinson was the son of Gary Roosevelt’s legendary “Big Dog.” Behind us a Black lady was cheering loudly for Glenn and number 22, a curly-haired sub who drained his first three-point attempt. Every time the coach took him out, the lady yelled repeatedly, “22, 22, put 22 in!” During a late timeout both teams’ cheerleaders did backward cartwheels up and down the court. The next timeout Lake Central cheerleaders formed a circle and did cartwheels first one after another like a wave and then all together. Pretty neat. With his team down three in the final seconds, Robinson missed a trey, grabbed the rebound, calmly dribbled behind the three-point line and hit a last-second shot. At the end of overtime, however, he missed the back end of a one-and-one and the number-one ranked Mustangs prevailed, thanks in part to some questionable calls that, as usual, went Munster’s way.

I had a great time hanging with Dave, beginning with supper at Long John Silver, where we often went after a movie when he and Phil were kids. Being at a high school game brought back memories of watching Gary Emerson’s Golden Tornado in the 1970s. Several times young people said, “Hi, Mr. Lane” and I thought momentarily they meant me. In 1991 Dave and I watched “Big Dog” sink a last second shot in the Regionals against East Chicago on the way to leading Roosevelt to a state championship. It was their biggest scare of the tournament. E.C. soccer coach Castulo Perez told me that David is an amazing teacher and mentor for the kids, something I already knew but that was good to hear. In his usual seat was East Chicago superfan Louis “Weasal” Vasquez, 87 years young, with scorebook in hand. He’d even been at Lew Wallace when fights broke out on the court and in the stands and E.C. coach Abrian Brown refused to finish the game.

The last time Dave and I were at Lew Wallace was 25 years ago to watch the great Jerome Harmon. While I was standing for the National Anthem, a kid put chewing gum on my seat and then took off. It soured my enthusiasm for attending any more games there. I later saw Jerome make a spectacular dunk at Chesterton after which several of their fans helf up signs reading “10.” A nice tribute. Once Dave and I planned to meet Paul Kern, who turned us on to Hoosier Hysteria, at a restaurant prior to an Andrean-Wallace game. We missed connections, something that probably wouldn’t happen today thanks to cell phones.

WXRT is featuring 1989. While in the car I heard Tom Petty, the B52s, the Red Hot Chili Peppers, Fine Young Cannibals, and Poi Dog Pondering, a Chicagoland band playing an XRT concert next week. In sports Kareen Abdul Jabbar played his final NBA game, Doug Collins relinquished the Bulls coaching reins to Phil Jackson, and Pete Rose was banished from baseball for gambling on games. The Cubs lost in the NLB playoffs to the Giants; an earthquake subsequently delayed the World Series.

The new Smithsonian has zebras on the cover and stories about drummer Gene Krupa, Cherokee leader John Ross, and Modernist artist Paul Gauguin. Jane Russell died at age 89. I recall her “bosoms” being featured in Playtex bra commercials. Looked over an article in “”The Dragon Lode” by Anne Balay about Gene Stratton-Porter’s “A Girl of the Limberlost,” which was not originally intended as kids’ literature. Combine what Anne wrote with Meg Renslow’s kids book might make for an interesting TRACES submission although Anne’s analysis is rather esoteric.Talking about subgenres that “Limberlost” fits into, she mentions environmental manifesto, plucky girl book, and something called bildungsroman, which according to Google (the word wasn’t in my dictionary) means coming-of-age novel.

Vehicle

2011-03-03T11:26:00.004-06:00

“I’m the friendly stranger
In the black sedan.”
“Vehicle,” Ides of March

The days are getting longer. Last evening driving to bowling, I noticed an orange U.S. Steel-enhanced sunset, and this morning light streamed in the condo windows around 6:30. A few mounds of snow remain from recent blizzards, and I expect we’re in for more, hopefully not as severe as the mid-March storm of 1998 that knocked out our power for a week.

Hearing the old Chicago band Ides of March while in my vehicle gave me a brainstorm to nudge Anne Balay about asking her Gender Studies students to keep journals for the single day of March 15 (she passed on such an assignment for an entire month). Along the Frank Borman Expressway (80/94) are a bunch of new billboards for Albert’s Jewelers (a sign of economic recovery?), in addition to the usual compliment of ads for the area’s two growth industries, truck stops and strip clubs (Déjà Vu advertises Showgirls – double entendre intended - and Club 390 proclaims, “All the liquor, none of the clothes”). Another new one claimed the Toll Road can get you to downtown Chicago in 35 minutes (unlikely and costly). With the Gary mayoralty primary just two months away, a host of fresh signs near campus read KAREN in huge letters; one can barely make out “Freeman Wilson,” the candidate’s last name. Mayor Clay has similar RUDY billboards. Hopefully we’ll soon see RAGEN signs soon touting my favorite, Mayor Hatcher’s daughter.

Post-Trib reporter Jon Seidel called to ask whether I thought Ragen was a clone of her dad. There were parallels in their careers (attorney, council member, candidate for mayor) and while both are visionaries, she represents a new generation with different priorities but facing challenges no less daunting than his. Her election would put Gary on the map in terms of national attention in ways not seen since her father’s defeat in 1987. Her election, in other words, would be a vehicle for starting a serious discussion about the obligation of the federal government (and the Obama administration) to help distressed cities.

Ron Cohen is speaking on the Gary schools in Steve’s Indiana History class. I recall how excited he was when he had an epiphany about starting each chapter of “Children of the Mill” with a human story. One deals with YJean Chambers’ mother learning her daughter had to go to an all-black school. Another documents Betty Balanoff’s determination to get a new elementary school in the Norton Park neighborhood where overcrowding was so dire kids were only attending class half a day. Ron inscribed my copy of “Children,” using a nickname from his days as a radio deejay, “To Jimbo, in friendship over 20 years, Sparky.” “Children of the Mill” opens with an event that occurred at a boarding house where 30 single men lived in the winter of 1909. Fourteen year-old Katie Kordich worked as a cook and maid for two dollars a week even though state law required that she be in school. After the authorities ordered the father to enroll the girl, the boarders refused to give her up and shot at him. The police finally rescued her.

At lunch medical School director Patrick Bankston told me that at his State of the City address Mayor Clay gave away copies of “Gary: A Pictorial History” to the two hundred or so guests. Ron and I knew the city still had some, but I am surprised at the Mayor’s largesse. Greg Gates who visited the Archives last week, sent us his history of Horace Mann men’s basketball, including four chapters on the 1928-29 season. In the school’s third year in existence they traveled to Indy (a four and a half hour trip then) to compete in the 16-team Finals. Led by Don Elser, also a football and track star, they won two games before bowing to eventual champ Frankfort. The final two chapters were on the 1941-42 season, when they finished the regular season ranked second with a 20-1 record. The team eventually lost in the Semi-State opener to (guess who?) the Frankfort “Hot Dogs,” who went on to defeat a South bend Central squad coached by John Wooden. Gates sent me an impressive list of books he owns about Gary, including the Pictorial History.

East Chicago Councilman John Gomez was in the Archives looking at material about the Concerned Latins Organization, a 1970s protest group interested in affirmative action and bilingual education, among other things. Gomez, who is planning a reunion benefit for April 2. Gomez was one of the main leaders of the group, along with David Castro. In “Forging a Community” there is a chapter on the Concerned Latins.

High Life

2011-03-02T13:57:00.003-06:00

“I’ll be back in the high life again
All the doors I closed one time will open up again.”
Steve Winwood

About to pay Pat the Jewel cashier for a 30-pack of Miller’s High Life, I heard Steve Winwood’s “Back in the High Life Again.” “What an appropriate song,” I exclaimed. Pat didn’t get it until I told her Stevie was singing about the brand of beer I was purchasing. Sporting a white Afro, Pat was probably younger than I.

Aaron Pigors is making progress on the Tribute CD we’re doing on FACET founder Eileen Bender. At the May 2011 retreat her husband will be the keynote speaker. In all likelihood, parts of the CD will be shown that evening and the entire thing will be on a continuously playing loop near where we’ll tape more interviews. We’re soliciting still photos of Eileen to insert. Kim Olivares from the FACET office sent us some, and IU South Bend English professor Rebecca Torstrick contacted Eileen’s daughter Leslie and Archivist Alison Stankrauf, who both forwarded others.

Robert Blaszkiewicz sent several high-resolution Times jpegs of Sheriff Dominguez for use in “Valor,” his autobiography. I showed him this following email I sent to Times columnist Mark Kiesling “I understand that The Times is opposed to the walkout by Democrats at the Indianapolis statehouse but I believe it is over the top to use Joseph McCarthy-like tactics similar to FOX News (despite your protestations) against those speaking out against the Republicans’ union-busting programs. Danny Glover is an honorable man but you make him out to be anti-American because of some of the company he allegedly keeps, i.e., Jean-Bertrand Aristide and Hugo Chavez. You label these two leaders dictators, but both were elected by the people of Haiti and Venezuela. In fact, Aristide was twice ousted by military coups, the first strenuously opposed by the United States. Your view reminds me of those who criticized the 1963 March on Washington because a militant from SNCC spoke and to those who demonized the antiwar rallies during the Vietnam era because lefties like Pete Seeger performed.”

Karren Lee thanked me for dropping off “Maria’s Journey” and added: “I started it last night and am totally caught up in the story.” When Toni started it, she stayed up till three in the morning reading. Can’t wait for Ray and Trish Arredondo’s presentation on March 14 at Theo’s in Highland.

Republican pollster Frank Luntz, whose book “Win” is subtitled “How to Harness the Best Attributes of Your Business,” claims that the best way to get people to retain something is to preface it with, “If you only remember only one thing I’ve said today, it is this.” When I talk to Steve’s class about Gary and Portage during the Twenties, maybe I’ll use that line and then say, “The 1920s was an age of optimism. It roared!” Of course, it started with the crushing of the 1919 steel strike and ended with the Wall Street Crash.

Bowled a 542, including 220 in the third game, which helped the Engineers salvage two points. On the opposing team was former teammate Chris Lugo and always-cheerful Tony Buhler, who rolled a 274 in game one. Some bowlers wear the same garb every week, featuring, say, NASCAR drivers, Harley Davidson outlets or commemorating a tour of a hard rock band. One guy wore a Michael Jordan jersey; another had on Black Hawks apparel. I alternate between three or four t-shirts. Most of my teammates wore checkered shirts with buttons down the front, but Captain Bill Batalis wore a Purdue sweatshirt.

"Ain't I a Woman?"

2011-03-01T13:30:00.001-06:00

“I am woman, hear me roar
In numbers too big to ignore.”
Helen Reddy

After the “Today” show summarized the deteriorating situation in Libya, on came “Two and a Half Men” out-of-control actor Charlie Sheen to declare, “I’m grandiose” and old “Family Ties” sitcom mom Meredith Baxter Birney to explain, “I’m gay.” Hardly a mention of the union demonstrations spreading to Ohio and elsewhere.

Anne Balay sent me notice of the “Celebrating Our Students Conference” sponsored by IUN’s Gender and Women’s Studies Program in the conference center. In the first session Mariah Hamang read poems from a volume of her work entitled “Ravings of a Disenchanted American Youth.” As she quickly recited the lines, I struggled to absorb the meaning of what she was saying. One mentioned smoking out with her boyfriend and a man dying of cancer during the summer after she graduated from high school. At the break I asked whether she had any copies of the booklet that I could buy and put in the Archives, but she indicated that she had given them all away to family and friends.

Speaking about Huck Finn, Leslie Mahaffey wore a Lady Gaga t-shirt from a recent concert and exclaimed that Gaga was a supporter of Gay Rights. The most moving paper was entitled “Cultural Memoir” by Ana Flores and dealt with child molestation. At one point when the victim confided to her mother that her uncle was sexually abusing her, her reaction was, “Don’t tell your father, he’ll kill him.” Later when she confronted her mother about it, she learned that the mother, too, had been abused as a child but was brought up to be deferential to men and not to do anything that would bring shame on the family. Determined that the cycle of abuse come to an end, Ana has instructed her own kids not to let anyone touch them in ways that make them uncomfortable; and when her husband brings friends to the house, the kids sleep with her and are told to scream if a man entered the room and she wasn’t there.

Two papers dealt with African-American women born into slavery. “Old Elizabeth” was an itinerant minister who didn’t start preaching into well into her 40s and faced the wrath of Black men as well as whites. Speaker Beverly Ann Lewis-Burton had a strong, passionate voice that led me to speculate that she was a preacher. Giving the impression that she had escaped from her master, Linda Brent hid for seven years in a space no bigger than a coffin above her mother’s sleeping quarters to prevent her owner from violating her. She didn’t even tell her own children because she feared they would inadvertently act suspiciously or be implicated if she were caught.

Buttressed with students taking Women’s Studies classes, the conference was well attended. Chancellor Lowe showed up, as did several faculty including Ana Osan and DeeDee Ige. After lunch (sandwiches, chips, a cookie, and bottled water), there was a panel on transgendered challenges and then a musical performance entitled “Ain’t I a Woman?” presented by the Core Ensemble and featuring actress Taylore Mahogany Scott celebrating the lives of four African-Americans, abolitionist Sojourner Truth, novelist Zora Neale Hurston, folk artist Clementine Hunter (sometimes called the Black Grandma Moses), and civil rights activist Fannie Lou Hamer. The title is from a speech Sojourner Truth gave in 1851 at a Women’s Conference in Ohio, where she said: “That man over there says that women need to be helped into carriages, and lifted over ditches, and to have the best place everywhere. Nobody ever helps me into carriages, or over mud-puddles, or gives me any best place! And ain't I a woman? Look at me! Look at my arm! I have ploughed and planted, and gathered into barns, and no man could head me! And ain't I a woman? I could work as much and eat as much as a man - when I could get it - and bear the lash as well! And ain't I a woman? I have borne thirteen children, and seen most all sold off to slavery, and when I cried out with my mother's grief, none but Jesus heard me! And ain't I a woman?” Almost a hundred people were on hand as Taylore Mahagony Scott showed her versatility and kept them spellbound. I particularly enjoyed her portrayal of Zora Neale Hurston evoking the spirit of the Harlem renaissance as the three musicians played music from the Jazz Age.

Discussed my proposal to hire five new faculty members with Liberal Studies director Bob Mucci. He suggested we divide it into two phases and emphasize how the number of students desiring to participate in the program has exceeded all expectations, despite it receiving scant publicity. Also since the new faculty would typically be teaching one Liberal Studies course and two surveys, the department would agree to staff two courses that fit into the Liberal Studies program. Since the bulk of Liberal Studies classes take place at 5:30 or later, the faculty involved would agree to teach at that time.

Anne Balay sent me notice of the “Celebrating Our Students Conference” sponsored by IUN’s Gender and Women’s Studies Program in the conference center. In the first session Mariah Hamang read poems from a volume of her work entitled “Ravings of a Disenchanted American Youth.” As she quickly recited the lines, I struggled to absorb the meaning of what she was saying. One mentioned smoking out with her boyfriend and a man dying of cancer during the summer after she graduated from high school. At the break I asked whether she had any copies of the booklet that I could buy and put in the Archives, but she indicated that she had given them all away to family and friends.

The most moving paper was entitled “Cultural Memoir” by Ana Flores and dealt with child molestation. At one point when the victim confided to her mother that her uncle was sexually abusing her, her reaction was, “Don’t tell your father, he’ll kill him.” Later when she confronted her mother about it, she learned that the mother, too, had been abused as a child but was brought up to be deferential to men and not to do anything that would bring shame on the family. Determined that the cycle of abuse come to an end, Ana has instructed her own kids not to let anyone touch them in ways that make them uncomfortable; and when her husband brings friends to the house, the kids sleep with her and are told to scream if a man entered the room and she wasn’t there.

Two other papers dealt with African-American women born into slavery. “Old Elizabeth” was an itinerant minister who didn’t start preaching into well into her 40s and faced the wrath of Black men as well as whites. Giving the impression that she had escaped from her master, Linda Brent hid for seven years in a space no bigger than a coffin above her mother’s sleeping quarters to prevent her owner from violating her. She didn’t even tell her own children because she feared they would inadvertently act suspiciously or be implicated if she were caught.

Buttressed with students taking Women’s Studies classes, the conference was well attended. Chancellor Lowe showed up, as did several faculty including Ana Osan and DeeDee Ige. After lunch (sandwiches, chips, a cookie, and bottled water), there was a panel on transgendered challenges and then a musical performance entitled “Ain’t I a Woman?” celebrating the lives of four African-Americans, abolitionist Sojourner Truth, novelist Zora Neale Hurston, folk artist Clementine Hunter (sometimes called the Black Grandma Moses), and civil rights activist Fannie Lou Hamer. The title is from a speech Sojourner Truth gave in 1851 at a Women’s Conference in Ohio, where she said: “That man over there says that women need to be helped into carriages, and lifted over ditches, and to have the best place everywhere. Nobody ever helps me into carriages, or over mud-puddles, or gives me any best place! And ain't I a woman? Look at me! Look at my arm! I have ploughed and planted, and gathered into barns, and no man could head me! And ain't I a woman? I could work as much and eat as much as a man - when I could get it - and bear the lash as well! And ain't I a woman? I have borne thirteen children, and seen most all sold off to slavery, and when I cried out with my mother's grief, none but Jesus heard me! And ain't I a woman?”

All That Jazz

2011-02-28T15:27:00.004-06:00

“Don’t you tell me I’m not the one
Don’t you tell me I ain’t no fun.”
“We Belong Together,” Randy Newman

Rather than attend the Indiana Association of Historians conference in Indy, I saw Becca in “Annie” again and went to a fourth birthday party at Riverside Park Clubhouse in Lake Station hosted by the family that cleans our condo. The Mexican food was delicious and augmented by barbeque chicken legs prepared by an African American named Willie who lives not far from our old house but on the Miller side of County Line Road. Except for a young deejay playing music at a level that made conversation difficult and occasionally putting on rap songs that weren’t age appropriate, we had a good time.

Tom Wade went to Madison, Wisconsin, to be part of Saturday’s huge demonstration at the state capitol, joining fellow gamer John Hendricks. He found the solidarity among unions, young people and other supporters inspiring. It reminded him of Sixties rallies, with music, fiery speeches, and a feeling of optimism despite Governor Scott Walker’s attempts to screw public employees. A pizza parlor was handing out free food nonstop as fast as they could make it thanks to donations that came from all over the world, including Egypt. Stopped to see ailing Ken Applehans, and we agreed that the capitalist bastards are their own worst enemies.

Sunday after gaming I went to a program at the Marquette Park Aquatorium having to do with the history of Gary. Greg Reising wrote a script simulating a WWCA radio show circa 1958 with various Millerites playing the roles of Mayor George Chacharis (George Rogge with fake nose and eyebrows), feminist Simone de Beauvoir (Karren Lee), radio host Vivian Carter, and others. It was pretty funny. Gene Ayers played himself at age nine reading a commercial for Ayers Realty. The highlight was Mike Carson of Emerson School as cool deejay Jesse Coopwood and mentioning various Black groups playing at jazz and blues clubs and the Miramar Ballroom. Then he, Garrett Cope, Jr., and Kevin Gatlin played a jazz number, followed by the entire cast singing “Gary, Indiana, Gary, Indiana.” Gary had some great venues a half-century ago, featuring legendary performers like Jimmy Reed, Jerry Butler, Lionel Hampton and the Staple Singers.

There weren’t any big surprises on Oscar night, and I agreed with the choices for the big awards, especially Christian Bale. The song category didn’t much interest me, but it was fun seeing Randy Newman accept the award for his work on “Toy Story 3.” And I was happy Trent Reznor won for the score of “The Social Network.”

Monday Sheriff Roy Dominguez made final changes in his autobiography “Valor: An American Odyssey from Texas to Gary, Indiana.” I emailed the chapters to IU Press and after Steve burned CDs of the manuscript and the photos, sent them off to assistant editor Nancy Lightfoot. What a great feeling.

The Post-Trib’s Jerry Davich recently asked for ideas for columns, and a racist suggested one on how an influx of blacks threatens to wreck the city of Portage. Coincidentally, we started subscribing to the Chesterton Tribune, a community newspaper that nevertheless carries more world and national news than the Post-Trib and has more of a liberal slant.
The Canright family has owned and operated the paper for more than 80 years. The first issue we received had an excellent article about the protests in Wisconsin. In contrast, an editorial in The Times criticized Hoosier Democratic legislators for fleeing the state to prevent a right-to-work bill becoming law.

Heard from cousin Tommi Adelizzi about news of the Lane side of the family. She’s upset over how unfairly great, great, great uncle James Buchanan is treated. Historians generally rank his Presidency as a failure – down there with Grant, Harding, Nixon, and W. I replied: “Philip Klein’s “James Buchanan: A Biography” is generally fair to “Uncle Jimmy.” Also John Updike wrote a long, fascinating essay about him as the preface to his published play “Buchanan Dying.” Since most historians believe the Civil War inevitable and even necessary to eradicate slavery, it seems inconsistent to then blame Buchanan for not preventing it. Even Lincoln wisely waited until Southern troops fired the first shot at Fort Sumter.”

Winter, Winter

2011-02-24T15:43:00.002-06:00

“The season rubs me wrong
The summer swells anon.”
“Down By the Water,” Decembrists

More snow on the way threatens to put the kibosh on plans to attend the Indiana Association of Historians conference at the Indiana History Center. Theirs is plenty going on locally, however, including “Annie” co-starring Becca and a program at the Miller Beach Aquatorium. Even a couple inches will set a local record for snow in February.

The Decembrists finally have a number one album, “The King Is Dead.” “Down By the Water” has an REM feel, and a song I heard on the way to work, “Why We Fight” seems especially relevant in these days of unrest in the Midwest and Mideast. Now the Indiana Democratic legislators have left the state to prevent passage of right-to-work legislation. The ride to IUN seemed never to end. First traffic came to a halt on 80/94 near Ripley due to construction. I managed to get off and take Route 20 to U.S. 65 but found the ramp to 80/94 west closed. Circling back to Fifteenth Avenue, I drove to Twenty-First and then Georgia, past Four Brothers Grocery, which was advertising “Buy phone minutes.” Up the street was a market advertising “Free Phone.” On the next block was a Baptist Church with depictions of Black angels on the windows. The potholes were unbelievable – poor Gary, so broke and saddled with an uncaring governor who won’t even authorize funds to fix main arteries such as Martin Luther King Drive and the Cline Avenue Bridge.

Bowled two wretched games and then finished with 208 (converting a 5-7 split and a tough spare in the tenth), helping the Engineers win two games and series by a meager 6 points. While things were going south, I thought of one friend with lung cancer, another the victim of a frivolous lawsuit, and a third being screwed at work and realized my struggles weren’t that important. Called Bill Batalis with the good news and listened to WXRT while watching Lettermen with the sound off. His and Paul Schaffer’s gestures are funnier than what they actually say. Dave kept mimicking someone smoking a joint. He kept making fun of Libyan leader Moammar Gadhafi, who has unleashed a bloodbath in an effort to remain in power. The Top Ten list were ways to mispronounce his name and included Qudaffy Duck, Mouthful of Taffy, Mallonar Cookie, and Milli Vanilli. When musical guests Mountain Goats performed, I turned the sound up.

A reporter called the Archives wanting information about the 1969 Firefighters strike in Gary. Donor Milan Opacich was a firefighter then and we have clippings about the strike in the Post-Tribune collection. A woman called wanting the name of a restaurant located near Fifth and Broadway in downtown Gary in 1965. Someone who badly needs an operation is trying to find her father whose name she never knew. The guy evidently met her mother there. With the use of a City Directory I located an L and N Restaurant. Because the unknown father supposedly was prominent, I mentioned that many successful attorneys, doctors and businessmen had offices in the Gary National Bank Building on that corner. The woman admitted that her search was analogous to finding a needle in a haystack, but she thanked me profusely. Perhaps she should interest Post-Trib columnist Jerry Davich in writing a column about her search.

Got several dozen Facebook birthday greetings. Good old number 69; one more year and I’ll be a septuagenarian.

Nicole Anslover and Chris Young invited me to their team-taught course on the American Presidency. The topic was civil rights during the administration of Dwight Eisenhower, and I was impressed on how seamlessly Nicole handled the interaction from students (Chris leads discussion on Tuesdays when they discuss the early Presidents). Almost everyone participated, including four African-American guys who seemed very knowledgeable about Black history. Eisenhower was unsympathetic toward integration of the races but reluctantly did his duty to uphold the law when Arkansas governor Orval Faubus defied the Supreme Court by preventing black students from attending Central High School. The 75 minutes went by fast, and I even offered some analysis a couple times. History Club president Heather Hollister said, “Hi Jimbo.” Loved it.

Meg Renslow DeMakas donated some interesting materials to the Archives. When she was teaching fourth grade in South Haven, she had students put together booklets containing Region folklore similar to the Foxfire project where students documented Appalachian culture. In fact, Meg had Foxfire founder Eliot Wiggington speak at her school. Meg has started a Family Folklore Foundation and also gave the Archives several children’s books that she’s written that include references to Northwest Indiana.

Director of External Relations Tim Weidmann invited me to Country Lounge to talk about former Economics professor Leslie Singer, whose daughter wants to start an endowment in her father’s name. Leslie started teaching when the campus was located downtown and didn’t retire until he was in his mid-seventies. What a memorable character. He had a great art collection, and his wife was herself an artist. The daughter fondly recalls coming to campus when she was a kid and watching her dad lecture as if he were on stage. In fact, Leslie wrote, directed, and acted in avant garde theatrical productions. One time during rehearsal he fell into the orchestra pit and broke his pelvis. One of his plays was very existentialist. Several scenes took place in a bathroom. Behind doors the audience would see bare legs and hear sounds of flushing.

Attended a condo board meeting to plot strategy regarding a unit whose owner defaulted on her mortgage and declared bankruptcy. The place has been vacant for some time and in foreclosure, and the association theoretically is owed about $3,000 in back payments. An attorney was pessimistic about the chances of recouping that money, but if the bank holding the mortgage purchases the condo at an upcoming sheriff’s sale, at that point we should be able to start collecting the $175 monthly assessment. Host Bernie Holicky had a couple Harriet Rex Smith paintings in the living room. She did many duneland watercolor landscapes before moving to Oregon. Neighbor Tom Coulter and I went together, and he expressed interest in purchasing the foreclosed condo as an investment. I got home to watch the end of the Bulls’ exciting win over the hated Miami Heat. New Mayor-elect Rahm Emanuel was at courtside. Back home got serenaded over the phone by the Michiganders, then got a call from JR that her house caught fire in the kitchen and that she and Floyd are at a motel. The insurance company has been great, she said, but it will probably be three months before they are back in the house.